


Ignis And The Beast

by Moon_Raccoon_exe



Series: Ignis and the Beast [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Awfully long apparently, Beauty and the Beast Alternative Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, It's a roller coaster: we'll go upwards in a straight line of fluff, It's going to be bad, M/M, Major Character Injury, One of the slowest burns, Romance, Slow Burn, Then all the way down into angst, You'll be allowed to smack me at a certain point of the angst because, You'll like it tho, give it a chance, lots of angst in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2018-11-06 05:11:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 396,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11029320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Raccoon_exe/pseuds/Moon_Raccoon_exe
Summary: Beauty and the Beast Gladnis AU:Ignis Scientia, son of a sick inventor and nephew to the town's mayor, ends up prisoner in a dark castle guarded by an imposing beast under the name of Gladiolus, and talking furniture.With no chances to escape, Ignis has to deal with a moody beast through the months, unaware that his sole presence may be the only key to breaking an ancient curse set upon the castle by an evil Wizard who may or not still wander around to prevent it from happening.Could Ignis, a simple town boy with passion for cooking, soften the beast's heart and break the spell?





	1. Little Town

**Author's Note:**

> Please do be aware that it's not the Insomnia and Lucis we know: for the sake of fitting the AU, I had to set it in a different fantasy world more alike to the real world renaissance of sorts. There are minor changes, of course (magic included, public schools, etc.) things that are not "historically accurate": that's the point, it's fiction.
> 
> So be aware, no cars, no cell phones, etc. Having changed Ignis' position, it also felt /very/ strange to have him talk in extreme formality, so I've made him much less uptight (thing that may not show during his first months in the castle, but shows in chapter 1 and near the end, I think?)
> 
> Beware: later as chapters advance, there'll be lots of angst.
> 
> I had been thinking of this AU for a very long while but only now sat down to write it. I apologize if I don't update as fast as some would possibly like, but I do will be working on it when I get the time.
> 
> Many headcanons came from conversations with AO3 user dontselloutbuyin.
> 
> They came up with excellent, brilliant ideas, but most have to wait for later chapters. You'll enjoy them as much as I did, I'm sure!
> 
> You can look for me on Tumblr as moonraccoon-exe.
> 
> I've shared two headcanon posts in there on the story. You can look for them, or you can wait to read them as they appear here.
> 
> All in all, please do enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where is the Gaston equivalent?
> 
> For the sake of fitting the AU, I took freedom of adjusting the Gaston figure. It is no longer the desperate person that goes after the protagonist attempting to marry.  
> There is a villian, nonetheless. Worry not. We'll get there.
> 
> The beginning may be slow and boring; we all know the story by heart already.
> 
> The stay at the castle will be more joyful to read, I expect, but to get there we need a beginning. Please be patient.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was quiet and peaceful in town…before dawn sunlight caressed it.

Northern Insomnia, a boring town in a place of Eos, did not require to be told twice to awaken almost in the same second the sun did: five minutes after the first rays of light made their entrance, the streets would start getting crowded as if though everybody was hiding behind the doors, only awaiting for the signal to appear on stage all at the same time.  
There was a house, nearby the town hall and the most popular windmill, that was constructed on top of a tiny hill; the height, only a few feet above most of the other buildings, gave it a good two minutes of anticipation: the first rays of sunlight to wake the town laid always on the roof of said house, and slowly slipped down until reaching the upper window.

And they landed softly upon a twenty-two-year-old young man’s face, who had taken the attic of the house to turn it into his room.  
His eyes would always open softly but quickly under the light, as if though sleeping was only an obligation and he decided to interrupt it as soon as the day asked him to, in a perfect natural schedule. And so, he would go into his routine: sick and tired of it, but comfortable in it nonetheless. Sit up. Stretch quietly. Clean himself. Get his glasses. Comb the hair back. And as he woke up with the sun and it would still be relatively early for breakfast, he would take a nest, tiptoe downstairs and across the living room, take his small bag of money, and exit.  


That was when the rest of town woke up: almost in a monotone, precise and exact clock, activity in town would start at the same time he closed the door of his house.  
Windows flew open, and the ladies behind them would greet each other as they shook cloths and rugs in the air. All the shops would open their windows and doors, and the people would start crowding around in their usual activities, all regarding cleaning something, buying things or heading places.  


Light haired and with gracious steps, the young son of the man that lived in the house on the tiny hill walked through the town, oblivious to the people’s stares upon him. Basket in hand and coins safely trapped between his belt and his immaculate white shirt, he walked in entire focus on reaching his destination with no distractions.

“What a strange guy that is, isn’t he?”  
“What a weird boy, indeed” some people.

“He behaves even more formally than his uncle or cousin.”  
“It’s almost like he’s royalty, if there was some” the commentaries of every day.

“There he goes, odd and gracious like always. Good morning, sir.”  
“Morning, my lady.”  
“Who, mommy?”  
“The man over there, nearby the bakery, sweetie. Ignis Scientia.”  
“Scientia? As in the son of the mayor?”  
“No, the mayor’s nephew. Good morning, over there” a mom and her child, and some distractions in between.

Ignis, the mayor’s nephew, and son to an odd inventor, standing by the bakery and requesting for two pieces of bread. In reality, he was not oblivious to the way people stared and he was not deaf to what they said behind him, but he had grown too used to that to consider it important or out of the ordinary. It was like listening to them talking about the weather, like he was not the Ignis everybody talked about.  
“He’s too well behaved to be son of the inventor.”  
“I need 12 eggs!”  
“That’s too expensive, are you sure?”  
“He’s always reading something; what is the point? How do you earn money out of reading? Poor man, has yet not grown up.”  
“And still, he behaves as if twice his age: formal, kind, smart.“  
“What is this guy? Why hasn’t he married yet? What with being so gorgeous.”  
“The good looks don’t take from one the uptightness and rudeness, my lady.”

While other people discussed on whether he should be married or not, Ignis was busy thanking the baker, who, by his part, was too busy yelling at his son to hurry with the rolls to reply. Not minding the behavior and yelling of everyday, the young Scientia smiled briefly and walked away.  
“He’s strange, no doubts.”  
“Good morning, sir.”  
“Good morning. How is your family?”  
“He’s never hanging with more people. Never part of a crowd. But he doesn’t seem to mind, hm?”  
“How much for this tomato?”  
“Good morning, over there. How is your wife?”  
“And there he goes again, into the bookshop. Does he not get tired? Do you think he’s feeling well?”  
“He may behave like a prince, but he’s still the inventor’s son. What were you expecting? Anything but ordinary, that’s for sure. How much for this apple?”

“Good morning, miss Liber” Ignis greeted softly, the ringing of the little bells of the doors musicalizing his words as background.  
“Good morning, Ignis. What can I do for you today?” miss Liber, an old lady still in shape and constant activity around her bookshop, asked. She cleaned her hands on her soft dress as she approached him with a smile.  
“I came to give you back the books I borrowed last week” Ignis smiled as he took said objects from the nest he was carrying, already too well acknowledged with the shelves’ order to need of orientation, and looked for their right place himself.  
“I know you’re a fast reader, Ignis, but I doubt you tried all the recipes in about a week” miss Liber laughed softly at the end of her sentence, standing and watching as Ignis climbed onto the stairs of a shelf to put the second book back where it belonged to. “That is, unless you cook ten times per day, boy.”

“Oh, no” Ignis said softly as he came down the stairs, turning to face the lady. “It is not that. I had previously acquired this number of Oric’s Culinary Chronicles: I only needed to borrow it again, seen as I missed to copy down a few important ingredients needed for one my father’s favourite meals.”  
“Ah, yes, your dad” miss Liber smiled carefully, nodding. “How is he doing?”  
“There has not been any change, not up nor down” Ignis replied with a his usual serious look upon his face, taking another one of the books nearby to start skipping through its pages. “The doctor said that so long we don’t expose him to too much stress or cold or other sort of shocks we should be seeing some progress. That’s the best we can expect from a non-curable illness”  
“Not curable, but it _is_ treatable” Miss Liber reminded him as if he did not know himself. “Don’t you worry, Ignis; you’re the most wonderful son Caleo could have asked for.”  


Said that, she got closer to him and gently took one of his hands, massaging it very softly with her thumbs.  
“You wake up early to prepare him breakfast with the freshest ingredients every day, you buy him the best medicine no matter the cost, sacrificing even your own desires for it, and you have never left his side when young men like you usually feel the need to leave and explore the world” Ignis stared down as she listed, but there was a tiny, subtle smile in his lips. She patted the back of his hand. “You are a very good son, Ignis…may the Astrals pay you back one day.”  
“So long my dad can live happy and relatively healthy, it’s not a sacrifice, miss Liber” Ignis stated. “That would be the only thing I could ask from the Astrals.”  


Miss Liber nodded at him with a sweet glance. None said anything for a moment, before Ignis held up the book he had previously taken.  
“I know I might have become bother by now, out of every time I come into your store, Miss Liber, but…if I may…”  
“You know what, Ignis?” the old lady replied with a sly smile. “Keep it.”  
“Miss Liber” Ignis raised the eyebrows in surprise. “But…”  
“You love the kitchen, Ignis” she said and let go of his his fingers to put her hands on her waist. “And nobody ever looks at those books except you. Keep it.”  


Ignis took some moments before he smiled a bit more widely than the usual in him and put the book in the basket he was carrying, before he presented a solemn nod of the head to the lady in front of him.  
“Thank you greatly, miss Liber.”  
“It’s okay, Ignis” she chuckled. “And stop being so formal; your uncle may be mayor, but that doesn’t force you to be uptight the whole time. You’re 22. Enjoy of your life!”  
He furrowed the eyebrows but kept the smile as he went back to the door.  
“I shall try. Good morning.”  
“Good morning, Ignis! Send my regards to Caleo!”  
After thanking her again, Ignis exited and closed the door behind him. He gave an innocent glance at three ladies that were standing in front of the window to the bookshop, all staring away of him as if embarrassed and keeping a secret, and, for a reason he really did not grasp despite the obvious, all blushing. He, kind almost by an obligated nature, greeted them with a Good Morning as he left. 

The three sighed and regrouped to share a screech of excitement, as quiet as they could make it. They failed on discretion, but it was not like Ignis noticed either.  
“Isn’t he dreamy?”  
“What a shame he’s so cold and serious. I want a husband, not a second dad” a little laughter.

He left towards the marketplace, and shared a few more random conversations every now and then. They either asked him for news on his uncle (they tended to pressure him like he was the mayor and not just an unimportant family member of said man) or tried to earn some conversation from him about subjects Ignis either did not quite understand or was not interested in.  
“Poor guy…he tries hard, but for some reason he just doesn’t fit in.”  
“You should be more patient with him. He tries.”  
“Trying never got anyone anywhere. He should get adapted; it’s easier one guy gets adapted rather than a whole town adapts to him.”

“Good morning, Ignis! How is your dad?”  
Of course, the third most treated subject Ignis dealt with, every day. He shared some conversation on the matter with the man of the vegetable stall while he, at the same time, checked on some tomatoes.  
“You’ve always taken him to the doctor, but have you tried with the Healer, Ignis?”  
Ignis picked the tomato on his left hand. It was fresher than the one on the right, which he left back on its place. The doctor had kept it clear that the fresher and better the food Caleo consumed the better it would be for his health.  
“Healer Izunia is a very busy man” Ignis replied distractedly. “He has checked on my dad once or twice…but I prefer to stay with the doctor.”  
“Whatever you want, Ignis” the man of the vegetable stall replied in a raspy voice. “But you should consider the Healer’s abilities. He can do anything.”  
Ignis did not reply.  
After buying what he needed and paying to everyone he needed to, he hurried back home, without running.  
The fresher the ingredients, the better it would do to his health, the doctor said.

\--

“Well, well, well, isn’t this Ignis Scientia on the go?”  


Ignis looked up when he heard the familiar voice from a side. He turned to find his blonde friend standing there, smiling like always, crossing her arms by her chest and looking up at him sweetly, sisterly.  
“Good evening, Cindy.”  
“Evening” she greeted and got closer but rounded Ignis as if he was not as important as the bag he was carrying on his shoulder. The young man did not mind and just let her do as she basically jumped on him to take the bag and lower it, open it and take a peek of the inside. “What’re you doing now? Buying more stuff for your good ol’ man?”  
“Indeed” Ignis nodded, letting her slightly hyperactive friend looked into the bag and mess with the gadgets in there.  


Cindy was a terribly curious girl with a passion for devices, gears and constructing stuff. Would she have the hair darker and the eyes a different shade of green had she passed perfectly fine as Ignis’ dad’s real daughter, inventor and inventor. Sometimes Ignis wondered if there had not really been a mistake in the universe and it accidentally put him where Cindy was supposed to be; Ignis was terrible for inventions, and he was way too serious in contrast with his dad, who was…well, more like Cindy.  


“He sent me to town for a few pieces he needs for the machine” Ignis commented after a few moments in silence in which he guessed his friend was expecting for an answer.  
“Ah, right” Cindy blinked, toying with a too-big screw she found in the bag. Ignis was looking at her from over his shoulder, but she did not pay attention; her mind was busy on the gadgets. “The one he’s presenting in a few days, huh?”  
“The very same one.”  
“Huh, wish I could give him a hand. Makes me curious” she said while toying with a little spring as if though it was the latest in technology. “Are you going with him, Ignis?”  
“I am still trying to convince him” Ignis’ eyes went down at the comment, and his eyebrows furrowed very subtly. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before continuing. “My cousin is out and won’t be back in time to attend the ceremony of a few days at the hall.”  


“So?” the question sounded as if Cindy already knew the answer and was only trying to make Ignis reconsider what he was to say next.  
“My uncle needs a second hand” Cindy sighed shortly at the words. “I am required to take the role in the cases my cousin is unable to attend for any reason”.  
“But it’s your dad, Ignis” Cindy reminded him. Like the man was not feeling guilty enough already. She left the things back in his bag and rounded him to face him this time, hands on waist and worry on the eyes. “He’s…I know you don’t need to be reminded of it as often, but he’s a bit sick.”  
“He’s _very_ sick” Ignis corrected her. “Still, so long he doesn’t pressure himself, he should be fine. I worry nonetheless, but I also trust everything will be alright” he gave a half nod, and his voice deepened a bit. “It’s a journey of one day only before he reaches Northeastern Insomnia. It’s okay.”  


Cindy looked at him some moments, and then she rolled the eyes with a ‘Pft’.  
“You’re too perfect as a second hand, Ignis” she stated. “Giving everything up just to take some notes for your uncle when it even isn’t your duty, even when that kills you of stress and worry, and doing it without a complaint…”  
“I wish to be of service to the people of town if I can.”  
“Your dad is one of them” she reminded him, pointing at him with a finger. “But I understand, Spectacles Boy” Ignis adjusted his glasses by reflex; he was a bit embarrassed whenever Cindy called him that. “I don’t agree with your extreme sense of service, but I understand. I admire you. You’re like the perfect figure of a king’s second hand of fairytales.”  


Both started walking side by side.  
“I will accept that as a compliment.”  
Cindy gave him a small nudge, and he smiled down at her; Ignis never said it, but he was thankful for having her as a friend. Even the hit of an elbow felt like a token of appreciation, so long they came from her.  
“You’re an idiot, Spectacles Boy” she smiled back. “But I meant it. I admire you.”

\--

“Father?”

Ignis toyed with a small compass he held in hands. The basement smelt like dirt and humidity, and it still looked like a mess: everything was in order, for Ignis had not controlled himself a few months ago and cleaned up and put everything somewhere right, but there were just too many things of a wide variety; despite the existing order, this ridiculous quantity of stuff made it look like a chaos.  
“Yes?”  
“Do you think…I’m weird?”  


Ignis' dad, Caleo Scientia, was known as the town’s inventor, but he was more of a mathematician. The title of Inventor first appeared as a way of making fun of him: he did try every now and then to invent something, despite it not being his main branch of study, but he was incredibly famous by failing at everything he tried to build. Mathematician and academic in general, the man had very poor skills with the hands; he could build but could not make things work. That was the reason the people of town started acknowledging him as “the inventor”, despite not being the only one in town.  
Caleo, too loyal to and too in love with the people of town, had thought they were praising his hard work, and accepted the nickname as a compliment and motivation to keep on giving his best into it.  


“Weird?” Ignis heard his dad laugh from under the medium sized machine he had been working on for the past 2 years. “Where did you get such ideas, Ignis?”  
“I don’t know” Ignis sighed softly, resting his lower back against the table behind him, taking a small wrench and starting to throw it up just to catch it as it fell. “I am aware that people speak no matter how great one develops in life, but I sometimes feel that I have become a…usual subject of conversation.”  


Caleo Scientia started coughing. Ignis stopped toying with the wrench and only listened. The coughing grew worse. Before Ignis acted, Caleo stopped coughing and went back to work. The older man, however, soon slipped from under the machine and sat up, looking up at his son with curious eyes.  
“And since when do you care about what they say about you?”  


Ignis looked at his dad. The man was sick, not agonizing: he could stand, walk and even run on his own. He just had a very poor resistance; grew tired very soon and easily, and sometimes he had breakdowns; he could act relatively normal, but at random times he could fall out of weakness. His heart had some troubles. His immune system was poor. He did not need to stay in bed the whole day, but he still needed to be constantly watched over, just in case. And still, he looked…normal. A bit older than he really was, a bit too tired for the relatively calm routine he held, but he did not look like dying.  


Ignis snapped out of his thoughts and his attention went back to the wrench, fidgeting with it in his hands.  
“I don’t care” Ignis shrugged slightly. “I just…had the sensation that I don’t quite fit in. It is not new, but…I feel strange sometimes.”  
“Ignis” Caleo stood up with a groan and a bit of effort. He took some steps towards his son to be standing at his side, and Ignis left the wrench on the table to look at his dad. “The weird one here is me.”  
Ignis side smiled at him, eyes slightly down. Caleo smiled back with amusement; if one did not make fun of oneself, life could get complicated, and Caleo liked to leave easy and calm. Opposite to his brother, for example.  
“And you are not like me. You’re like your mom.”  


Ignis looked up at his dad for a moment, the smile smaller. After a few moments into that, his eyes went down, but he did not look sad…rather thoughtful.  
“Brave, smart, loyal…and a bit uptight” Ignis chuckled at that. “But not weird.”  
“Like mom” Ignis said softly. “Sometimes I wish I could remember her a bit clearer than I do.”  
“Just look at the mirror” his dad suggested, taking a hammer from the table and returning to the floor, this time at a side of the machine instead of under it. “You’re identical to her.”  
“Just with a ridiculous haircut, I know” Ignis rolled the eyes, smiling. That was his dad’s usual phrase from whenever he recalled on Ignis’ looks.  
“It _is_ sort of ridiculous, son” Caleo said. “All sticking upwards. It’s a mess.”  
“What did mom keep her hair like, then?” Ignis asked.  
“All the way down, on the front and back” Caleo recalled, and like it was about a poem, he added slow as if reciting: “Long, long, very long.”  


Ignis nodded even though he knew his dad was not seeing. Both stayed quiet some moments. Caleo coughed a couple times, but nothing out of what had become the ordinary.  


“You know, Ignis” his dad called after he had managed to clear his throat. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but when your mother was pregnant, we were almost sure we would have a daughter. I was sure she would be identical to her, so I chose the name for a baby girl. That’s why you’re called Ignis; when it was a boy and I was not prepared for that, your mom only laughed at me and picked a name herself. She was not prepared either, but she thought patiently until coming up with a good name for you. And not that Ignis is for boys only, but the name we had thought about was specifically for girls, so…”  
“What a great disappointment it must have had been” Ignis said as a joke, except he was awful at delivering them and usually came out dryly. Caleo, knowing his son by all life, knew this and only laughed softly in response. “What would you have named her?”  


His dad took some moments. He needed to stop and cough yet again. Ignis reached for a glass of water and offered it to him. Caleo drank and thanked him before returning to his work. After a few moments, the man sighed and remembered.  
“Belle.”  
Ignis nodded, slowly. Both stayed quiet some more moments, and after a while, Ignis sighed.  
“And was mom disappointed when a boy came out?”  
“Not for one single second.”  
More silence. A few moments passed by without a word.  
“And you?” Ignis asked. “If you could, would you have liked to have raised a daughter?”  
“Ignis” Caleo stopped his work again and looked up at his son. “I would not change anything. Not even a single lock of your hair.”  


Silence.  
“Not even a single lock of your ridiculous hair”  
“I shall take that as the greatest compliment you have ever given me, dad.”  
Both smiled at each other. Caleo stopped his work only to gift his son a thoughtful look, followed by a small blink dedicated to him, speaking with no words. Ignis smiled at him and nodded, understanding.  


The Scientia stayed quiet some moments. Ignis took a mug he had brought with him downstairs and held it with both hands, but he really was not thirsty. He subtly watched as his dad, with some effort, walked across the room to get a small cloth. Ignis kept the eyes on the older man, watching him clean his hands and forehead.  
He had tried to take a sip from his coffee, but he only managed to press the mug to his lips. The heat caressed the tip of his nose, and even though he had always loved the smell, right in the moment he was oblivious to it, too focused in his thoughts.  


Eventually, as his dad returned to the machine, Ignis put the mug down and could not help his words.  
“…I should go with you to the invention fair, father.”  
“We have already discussed it, Ignis” Caleo stopped his work again, staying on the ground and looking up. Ignis, strangely, was out of his usual composure; he always walked around as if he was a prince, or like he was a leader that knew perfectly fine what goes where and how to put order, but in home he had no reason to pretend anything. Right there, he was just staring down, looking worried and upset. Looking properly human for once. “I will be fine.”  
“It doesn’t feel right” Ignis insisted, quietly. “Every time I think about you leaving alone…something doesn’t feel quite right” he looked up at his dad, but his eyes quickly went down again. “It’s…sort of a presentiment, if I may.”  
“Son.”  


Ignis looked up when his dad stood up and in front of him. Having reached twenty-two, Ignis had grown taller than his dad. Both Scientia looked at each other, and then, Caleo moved a hand up to take a gentle grip of Ignis’ shoulder.  
“I will be fine” it was but a whisper, which only filled the meaning of the words with an intimate sensation Ignis could not ignore. He fought with all his will not to let his eyes water, and succeed. “Trust me.”  


Ignis stayed quiet some moments. He stared down again and hesitated a bit. His dad’s hand never moved away; he and his family had never been too much of physical treatment, so the touch meant quite something to him and moved him inside.  
Eventually, he nodded.  
“Alright.”  


Caleo smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder a bit more tightly before letting go of it.  
“I’m going to win the competition, you’ll see” the man said as he caressed his own back, groaning in some bothering ache as he went down on his ankles at the back part of the machine, and started fixing some things in there. “When I do, I’ll get the prize” he kept listing. “And when I do, we’ll get the best doctor in all of Eos.”  
Ignis blinked.  
“And when we do” his dad continued, excited and sighing from the effort, but smiling nonetheless. “We will get a new, greater and brighter beginning of a life.”  
Ignis looked at his dad.  
The man’s eyes swam in tears, but his dad pretended not by trying to cover that with a huge smile.  
“For both of us.”  
Ignis stayed quiet. He looked at his dad some moments before he could nod.  
“You’ll win, dad.” 

Ignis was not worried whether his dad won the competition or not. He just wanted him to go and come back in total safety.  
It was not distrust.  
It was this terrible presentiment…

\--

“Nox is well fed, father.”

Ignis caressed the mare’s forehead lovingly, staring at her with subtle sadness. He watched as his father made sure the machine would not fall from its place on the cart the mare would be pulling from, excitedly. Ignis had been the one to put his dad’s invention on the cart (with a little help from the neighbor), so his dad did not have deal with big efforts. He had asked his dad to not be shy and ask for help once he reached the fair, and kept showering him in instructions; his dad shrugged it all off with a couple of ‘Yes, I know’.  
Sometimes, son behaved like father, and father like son. 

“Excellent” Caleo sighed as he watched the bulge of his machine under the cloth, proudly. “Well, it seems like everything is its place. I’ll go get the food.”

Ignis watched as his dad left to go inside the house again. The young brown-haired returned his attention to the black mare and continued caressing the forehead.  
“Nox” he whispered. “Please, take care of dad. Okay?”  
The mare did not reply further moving an ear. Ignis, however, liked to believe that had been an agreement from the animal. He thanked the mare and hugged it. Having lacked a sibling and not getting along with his cousin, Ignis had grown with the mare as an intimate friend. Of course she would be missed. Ignis patted her forehead a last time, and looked at his dad as he came from the door, heading to the cart and dropping the nests of food on it.  


Ignis made sure a last time everything was in its place. When everything was ready, he accompanied his dad to the exit of town. Once there, they faced each other for a goodbye.  
“Well, I’ll continue from here on my own” Caleo spoke. “Thanks for everything, son. Take care and relax, okay?”  
“I will try” Ignis nodded. “You take care.”  
“I will” his dad replied. “Good luck at the hall’s event with your uncle.”  
Ignis only nodded again. Caleo, watching the hesitation in his son’s eyes, moved a hand up and kept it in between their chests.  
“Hey” he called. Ignis looked up form the ground to him again, quiet. “I’ll be fine. The way is all east; there are many signs over the roads. I can’t get lost. I have plenty food cooked by the best chef in Eos. I won’t starve. And I’m feeling alright; I’ve been treated by the best nurse all of my life.”  


Ignis, despite the hesitation, could not help a tiny smile.  


“Ignis” his dad called again, quietly. “It’s okay. You can’t carry me around all of my life. I have to be independent and grow up and explore the world.”  
Ignis laughed at the way his dad joked by reaffirming their positions with Ignis as dad and Caleo as the son. It was rather amusing for both; despite having always put himself as the man of the house, Caleo had had degrading health the past couple of years, which had brought him to become a vulnerable human being, and which forced Ignis to grow up earlier than he should have. Hence the amusing inversion of roles.  


The younger man nodded and moved his hand up as well to grasp his father’s. Both squeezed and let go. No hug required: the Scientia were not too much into physical intimacy.  
“Good luck, father” Ignis wished. “And take care.”  
“I’ll come back with our future in a bag, you’ll see” his dad promised. “I’ll see you in a week.”  
Ignis offered his hands as an impulse to make it easier for his father to hop onto the horse, so he could do the less effort as possible. Once on it, Ignis made sure the saddle was alright, and took a step back after patting Nox’s head.  
“Take care, dad” the third time he said that.  
“Understood, son” his dad said and smiled at him a last time, before gently commanding for Nox to start moving.  


The cart squeaked a bit as it started moving. Ignis waved a last time and stood there, in the exit of the town, watching as his father’s figure grew smaller and smaller until he could cover the shadow with a thumb. He stood there until he could literally not be seen anymore.  


With a sigh, Ignis tried to calm himself down. Everything was fine.  
He turned around and started heading back into town, and straight towards the hall.  
He had government work to do.


	2. The Beast in the Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, Caleo translates in Google as Flame. Found it accurate for our Fire 'Ignis', and Flamma sounded stupid.
> 
> There's no major violence, but I listed the warning just in case (due to the encounter with the beast).
> 
> Enjoy!

Caleo was right when he said there were many signs on the road.  
The thing with signs is that they are not always correct.

An inventor of the town nearby, where the fair was to take place, was extremely jealous and afraid of the rest of participants. Where Caleo was a passionate inventor, the other man was a jealous man with a heart of greed and desire for the big prize. Where Caleo wished for a brighter future in which Ignis could live his own life without dedicating it full to his father, the other man was in the search of power and material things.  
And like many darkened hearts, he looked for ways to disturb the other participant’s inventions so his own could outstand and win.

He had used his savings to pay for mercenaries that went back and forth among the different towns of Insomnia, spying over the other inventors’ progresses and ideas, and once or twice had he paid as well for the mercenaries to mess the inventions up and make it unable for the inventors to attend the fair.  
The mercenaries had not had time to mess with that of Caleo’s, and the time was short: the man was already heading to the competition with a machine much more impressive than the one of the greedy man…but there were many other ways of making him miss the fair.  
For example, change all the signs of the road.

Caleo followed the signs, like anyone else would have done. There was no way he could miss and get lost…on a normal situation. Following the signs rather than the mental path he remembered was exactly what brought him to get lost. Then again, nobody could blame on him for trusting; never once did it ever cross his mind that anybody would change the signs that led to Northeastern Insomnia.  
Having travelled a day and half, Caleo had yet not arrived to the town he was going to. It did not even seem to be close: no matter where he looked at, nothing looked like the place he was supposed to be in right in those moments. The town was supposed to be in a valley; the roads progressively had to lead downwards. He, on the contrary, had come to find hills on the road and a progressive path leading upwards.

Caleo had tried to trust in the signs nonetheless and had continued, but by that point of realization he had started to greatly hesitate and acknowledge he had to be lost. Nox, the mare he was riding, had long stopped jogging with firm steps to start walking with an insecure go.  
“Don’t worry, Nox…” Caleo tried to give both of them the sensation of safety none was clearly feeling. “It’s been a while since we last came. Perhaps there were…changes in the road.”  
The mare snorted by any answer and continued going. 

Maybe getting lost would not have been as worrying if the surroundings were different; if there had been blossoming trees, lively bushes, maybe a squirrel or two running around. But no: it was almost like somebody had set up the scenario Caleo found himself into on purpose only to spook him out; the trees were all nude, if maybe one or two leaves per branch. Their wood reached for the grey skies like bony fingers about to slam down on him, and despite being as thin, the branches were numerous and covered most of the sight of the ceiling above him. Spiders knitted their houses from left to right. Red eyes and squeaks sometimes made Caleo shrug and look around for any possible danger.  
This was getting terribly bad.

When the sun started hiding in the horizon, Caleo forgot about his pressure on arriving to the fair in time: the only important thing for him now was to find a town, whatever town, or any other place to take shelter for the night. If he did not, it was mostly for sure he would die in the night; daemons were on the loose in the wild, and only a place with light would scare them away. It would not work for him to light a fire; he needed a bigger source of light, or one of the shelters Healer Izunia had set on the normal roads. Or any town. And if there was none, then the less he could think about in necessity was to find a shelter: anywhere so long daemons would not get close, or where they could not enter, or which could be impossible for them to break through.

If only Ignis was there…

Caleo sighed tremblingly. He hated to need of Ignis the whole time: his son was young, but would not be so forever. He had been losing all his youth taking care of Caleo, when it was supposed to be the other way around. That was why Caleo hated to be wishing of his presence there; he had already asked too much from Ignis, and Ignis had given him even more without being asked for it…but right in those moments it was impossible not to want him close, at his side.  
Ignis knew how to fight. He had trained since young, and constantly practiced if he had the time. Maybe getting lost would not have been as creepy and terrifying had Ignis been there. He could bring down one or two daemons on his own. Well, of course, thinking about it, Caleo also hesitated if it would have had been good to have Ignis; maybe more than one or two daemons popped up, and in that case not even the young Scientia could handle it…

As the journey continued, Caleo moved a hand up and gripped his shirt by the chest: he closed the eyes and tried to calm his breathing. He was getting too stressed and this was doing no good to his heart. The less he wanted was to give any troubles to Ignis if he disappeared, and only made his son abandon his daily duties to go a day and half of journey only to find him thrown on the road, agonizing or dead. He reaffirmed in mind that everything was alright and that he would find any shelter soon enough so long he did not stop walking. It was fine. It was fine…  
Almost like an answer to his anxious thoughts, a proper road opened in front of him. He kept going and led Nox on it. When the forest ended and his sight was clear to look in the distance, he could not help the gasp as he moved his head back, eyes wide in awe, mouth opened in surprise.

He had reached the castle.

He had not noticed before due to the mess of branches in the forest that were put together so tightly they had formed a cave of sorts around him. Now out of the tunnel the forest offered, the castle stood in front of him in all its splendor.  
Abandoned and dark, the building was big and tall. Its top could be seen from his town, as a tiny figure, but watching it this close was a completely different experience. It was imposing. Only counted windows were broken, but the rest stayed intact. With the sun almost completely gone, Caleo could not get a look of the inside. From his position, he could see the gardens at the other side of the outside wall; the plants were grown like a tiny version of a forest.

He had a sensation inside sort of a déjà vu, but let it go: he had other things to worry about.  
He still had a way to go if he wanted to reach the castle. He looked around, but he did not spot anything near except for the great building. His only option, he guessed. Caleo hesitated for far too long; the sun was gone.  
And daemons appeared.

The first five minutes went on fine, but after that, there were the sounds of metal screeching nearby. Caleo’s heart almost popped out of his chest at the sounds and he stopped. Trembling madly and having lost all color from his face, he looked around but saw nothing…which only worried him more. Just as he was about to turn around and ask Nox to run, the mare neighed loudly and came to hold her weight on her back legs, taking Caleo off guard and almost making him fall.  
“Calm down, Nox! Calm!” Caleo called, but the mare had grown desperate. She whined and snorted and tried to turn around, but her movements came dumb; she was still attached to the cart. Caleo tried to calm her, but he soon froze in his place when, there on the floor a few feet from them, a huge dark spot sprung from the ground.

Caleo watched as the spot grew bigger and purple dots started gleaming in among; soon, the form of a huge hand appeared inside and came to plant itself on the ground.  
“…may the Astrals protect me- run, Nox!” he had first whispered in total panic while watching the figure of an Iron Giant starting to form before him, but the order came out as a scream. He insisted on Nox and the mare did not need to be told twice; with a loud neigh and finding it impossible to turn around easily, Nox obeyed and instead ran forwards, avoiding the Iron Giant by rounding the black material.  
Caleo ignored the loud beating of his heart; his mind was focused whole on the instinct of survival. Nox ran as fast as she could go, and once again she had to move at a side to ignore another of those black spots that sprung from the ground. He was too terrified to look back, but he did not need to do it; the sound of screeching metal followed him. Whether the first Iron Giants were running after him or whether a lot more were popping out as they passed by, he did not know.

A few moments into the run of their lives, Nox could not stop in time when she came to an accident on the ground; the flat ground ended and went downhill. A horse could run down it perfectly, but Nox had been going too fast; slipping and stumbling, the cart lost control behind her, and they fell. The cart and content, the mare and the man all rolled down the hill before coming to a stop. Caleo, the lightest of the three, fell backwards: had he been thrown down forwards, maybe the machine or the horse would have smashed him dead.  
The inventor lost consciousness for about five minutes; the only thing that brought him back in his senses was the desperate whining of the mare, who refused to leave without him but also refused to wait for too long. Caleo opened the eyes and looked around, confused. When he spotted the mare, now free from the cart, she got close and hit him softly with the muzzle, but insisted on neighing at him with justified stubbornness.

Scientia’s body reacted before his mind, and he was soon hopping back onto the horse. Nox ran and had to jump over a tonberry, daemon of harmless looks but that could be ten times worse than an Iron Giant in a fight, and that had been approaching them since the Astrals knew when.  
Caleo held tightly onto the horse, finally feeling the consequences in his chest. He gripped the mane a bit too tightly, but Nox did not complain and kept running in a straight line. The mare only stopped when it reached the main entrance to the castle.  
The Citadel, a sign read. The man ignored it and hopped off the horse, getting close to the gates. He pushed them in a reflex instead of thinking of looking for a lock. Of course, the gates did not open. He pushed and pulled roughly in desperate movements, and heard Nox whining in the background, anxiously pacing from a side to the other. Caleo, still not thinking with a clear mind but also being a smart man by nature, could only think of looking in his pockets.  
Thank the Astrals, he found a small piece of wire in one of them.

Caleo hurried on looking for the lock; his hands were trembling too much and he took far longer than he would have, had the situation given him calm, but he, in a last-minute victory, managed to open the lock. He muttered a curse in both desperation and triumph and flew the gates open. He turned to look for the mare, but Nox needed of no instructions and was already running towards the entrance. As soon as she was in, Caleo quickly pulled himself to the inside and closed the gates again, right in front of the tonberry and a new companion of it.  
He quickly stepped back and ran some feet, before he dared to look back again: there were no daemons nearby other than the tonberries, and despite their small size, they did not fit through the bars of the gate. Caleo did not want to find out how far away they could throw the knives they held, so he turned again and hurried as fast as he could to the doors of the castle.

It was quite a way from the gates to the main stairs, so he was calmer by the time he got there.  
Nox had already calmed down as well, standing at a side of the stairs. All that Caleo could think about was to approach her and hug her by the neck. He stayed there, hugging her tightly, and the mare gently snorted in response as if understanding. A minute or two were spent like that before Caleo could thank her in a trembling whisper.  
“You did great, baby girl” he whispered to her. “You did great…you saved our lives…”  
The mare calmed in his hug.  
After a couple of moments, Caleo patted her forehead and asked her to come with him to the castle, but Nox refused. She had never liked interiors. Caleo had guessed he could try, seen as the building seemed to be very big and maybe then Nox would agree for once, but the mare refused to even step on the stairs. The man did not mind, but he also knew he could not stay outside: it was getting cold, and while the horse was used to it, he had been explicitly told not to expose himself to great impacts. Having escaped death, fallen from a hill, and having run for his life had been enough of a shock for one day to also deal with the cold.

Caleo went upstairs and reached for the doors. Everybody knew the castle was abandoned (not like anyone had gone to check, but if everyone said so then it had to be true), so he did not find any troubles on not calling at the door. Nobody would open. Even though he knew nobody would mind either, he still felt like he was invading somebody else’s home…but his illness asked him to do it anyway. So he merely pushed the doors open, and they gave in gently.  
He was a bit scared of stepping in, to be sincere, but to spend the night in an abandoned castle or to spend it outside with the daemons…yes, he preferred to deal with a few spider webs and fairytales of ghosts.  
He stepped in with insecurity and looked around. He could barely see anything, but there were…a couple sounds somewhere in the distance. He tried to calm his breathing and heartbeat and closed the door behind himself. No, he was not mistaken: there were sounds coming from somewhere. It sounded as if somebody was having dinner; the sound of a cup against a dish, or forks colliding with knives. But it sounded as if they were trying to have a secret dinner and make the less noise as possible. He could only hear furniture that was used, but no voices or steps.

And then he heard a little laugh.

Caleo froze in his place. From all the unexpected things, the fact that the palace could be occupied took place number one. He gripped his cape and wrapped himself tightly around it, and took a few more steps inside very slowly.  
“…h…h-hello?” he had intended to call in a yell, but his voice came out normally. The sounds did not quiet down, but there were still not voices. Maybe the laugh had been a hallucination. “…Hello?”

Not an answer yet.  
“I’m…” he breathed heavily, and now that the adrenaline was fading from his veins, he was starting to finally feel the weakness of his system. He stumbled a bit and had to put a hand on a column not to fall. He closed the eyes. “I’m…I need of…refuge tonight, I…the daemons…”  
As he spoke, the sounds eventually faded. Caleo took some more moments just breathing heavily before he could continue walking, dumb and stumbling in his way.  
“…I apologize for coming in…I just…uh…”  
There were some shared whispers from a side, somewhere. But Caleo was struggling with his heart and health to properly pay attention.  
“…I could have…stayed outside, but…the truth is…” Caleo sighed and held to the next column. He took some moments; besides the illness and tiredness, he struggled every time he had to say those words…he despised them, but he had no choice. “…I’m…I’m sick and…”  
Before he could continue, he moved a hand to his chest again and gripped his heart. He breathed heavier than before, and found himself unable to speak.  
Soon, Caleo Scientia fell to his knees, coughing. 

“Oh, no!”

Caleo almost gagged in his own coughing when he heard the yelping of a voice nearby. He coughed a couple of times and heard some clicking that was growing louder, as if nearer.  
“I can’t stay quiet!”  
“Prompto, come back!”  
Caleo could finally manage to stop coughing and he looked up and around. His eyes travelled everywhere, and while the clicking still sounded, he could see no one in the room.  
“Wh-who’s there?” he managed to ask, and the clicking stopped.  
“Over here!”  
The inventor looked over his shoulder and his gaze continued to look in the room. The voice was too close and he saw no one nearby.  
“Over here!” the happy voice insisted, but no matter where Caleo looked, he spotted no one. 

And, then, he felt something tapping on his knee.  
When he looked down, he found, senselessly, a black and golden candelabra of three members, standing in front of him…and looking up at him with a smile and bright eyes.  
Caleo looked at it and did not know how to react, so he did not. He only looked at the metal furniture, with eyes open and eyebrows furrowed. There was a heavy silence in which the man only stared at the object, none moving except for the little flames of the candles.  
…until the candelabra’s smile widened.  
“Aló”

Only when he saw the object moving and heard it greeting him, Caleo let out a small yelp and fell backwards.  
Speaking about avoiding great shocks…  
“No, no, no, sir, you’re injured” the candelabra reassured and hopped closer to him. “Let us-”  
“ _What_ are you!?” Caleo questioned as he looked at it almost with terror, his hand moving up in a reflex of protection when he saw it approaching again. The candelabra, however, gave him an innocent look and a blink.  
“My name is Prompto!” the piece of furniture said joyfully to him, presenting a reverence of sorts to the man, and offered two of his…candles…hands…hands of candles…to him, and their flames went off. Caleo moved up a hand, very hesitating and unable to take his eyes off the talking metal piece. When his fingers were close, ‘Prompto’ took one of them with his candles-by-hands and shook it. “Hello! You said you were sick, so please let us attend you.”

“Great job, Prompto” another voice that made Caleo gasp and look over his shoulder. Incredibly impressive to him, a drawer was coming close to them…looking angry? Could drawers look angry? Because Caleo was sure this one sure did. “The instructions were clear, you had only one job: shut your damn mouth and pretend you don’t exist. Congratulations, you just ruined it.”  
“Hey! I-I mean, mister Libertus, I-I’m…I know we didn’t have to move, but he’s sick!” the candelabra argued back, but never once looked up at the drawer, as if he feared it.

“Calm down, Libertus” a feminine voice that made Caleo sit up and look back, still not knowing how to react. A coat rack was coming close to the drawer. “We were not prepared for this. Besides, the man is sick.”  
“What is _one_ man?” the drawer insisted. “We all swore to stay hidden. We can’t let the people of Lucis know about our whereabouts. Their moral would break.”  
“He doesn’t remember” the coat rack whispered to him, even though Caleo heard just fine. “He’s seen us, but he still won’t remember. We’re okay.”  
“Do as you please, Crowe, but I’m not comfortable with this” Libertus continued. “When Gladiolus knows…”  
“He doesn’t have to know” the coat rack replied as she reached down and offered one of her…hands…to the man. Caleo, confused and in shock, only accepted it by reflex, and he felt this thing and another coat rack helping him back on his feet. “Hello, sir. We’ll help you.”

Caleo could not reply. He looked at the furniture, the head empty. He let them guide him to another room and did not say a word until they arrived there. He was guided to a comfortable chair, and he sat slowly, careful. He looked at the furniture a bit more while they all tried to light up a fire and to make him comfortable.  
“…what…are you?” Caleo questioned again, this time much calmer, and despite his obvious confusion, his lips curved: it did not make sense, but seeing furniture jump around and talk was…quite a show.  
“That doesn’t matter” the feminine-voiced coat rack replied while it…she…checked his left arm from under the sleeve as if looking for injuries. “Just make yourself welcome.”  
“This won’t end good” the drawer said and only went to sit…stand…stay still on a corner.

“Don’t you worry, mister sick” the candelabra said with its usual smile on its or his face, appearing again through the door and jumping onto the table to look at Caleo more closely. “I called for Luna; as soon as she comes here, you’ll feel better, you’ll see.”  
“…well…thank you…” Caleo smiled at him. This was odd and weird and did not make sense, but he felt warmly welcomed and attended.  
During a few seconds his mind was free to wander around; was Luna an enchantress who ruled in the castle and had enchanted her furniture to serve her? Was she a mage? Or would he find another coat rack? 

Before he could continue wondering things, and just as he had started to feel safe, he could hear some screaming, not as if somebody had been hit, but rather as if they were desperately arguing. He turned to look at the door, and some furniture in the room gasped or let out small ‘Oh, no’s.  
“Told you” it was the drawer’s voice.  
The sounds of voices arguing and pleading grew stronger and were soon joined by heavy sounds of what seemed to be steps. Caleo grew nervous again and watched the door, expecting; whatever was coming close…did not have small feet. Or human feet at all. One did not need to see to know. He saw some furniture reaching for the door as if to stop it from opening, but they did not get it in time.  
The door flew open violently.  
Caleo gasped and stopped breathing; his heart almost stopped as well.  
It, definitely, was not human.

“What _the fuck_ did I tell you!?”  
It was not only a scream. It was a roar. A literal roar, for the thing standing in the door was not a piece of furniture nor was it a man: it was a beast.  
It stood there, much taller than an average man, much taller than a big man. Tough and strong, the beast was almost the size of a small hut. Caleo, due to the darkness, only managed to get a glimpse of the dark fur that covered all the imposing figure, the pair of great horns on the head, the shining of what looked like red eyes, and the size of the fangs that showed furiously through his mouth.

Caleo stood up by reflex, not taking his eyes off the beast at the door. The furniture was pleading something to the beast, but Caleo could not hear anything except the pulse of his heart throbbing in his ears and his brain pumping inside his skull.  
“…I-I…I-I’m o-only…” Caleo managed to whimper out quietly, but nobody could say anything when the beast roared again.  
Then it ran towards Caleo. 

The man whimpered, but against what he had expected, the beast did not eat him; it grabbed him by the clothes like a lioness gripping her cub by the back of the neck, and roughly pulled him off the floor at the time the man yelped out in terror.  
“Gladio, stop, we know tha-”  
“You, useless idiots!” the beast roared at the furniture, and with the man in a hand like he was a rag doll, the beast exited the room with heavy, quick and loud steps.  
Caleo could only scream again in fear and let himself be taken somewhere else, with the beast’s claws rubbing on his skin and having destroyed his cape.

_Ignis…I took care, but it was not enough._  
_Please, do not come look for me…stay in town._  
_Ignis…I’m sorry_. 

\--

“What’s wrong, Specs?”

Ignis sighed and looked over his shoulder. He quickly but elegantly pulled himself up from the ground, using his hands to clean his clothes from the grass that stayed on them. One of his friends stood there on her place, hips out and a fist on them, while giving him a cold look.  
“Apologies, Aranea” Ignis recalled while still cleaning his clothes. Nobody minded, but Ignis thought it could be ‘insulting’ to be dirty while talking with someone else. It did not make sense, but that was Ignis to you. “I can’t stop thinking about my father.”  
“Ugh” Aranea rolled her eyes at him, moving her hips to the other side. “Stop it, Ignis.”

Ignis looked down for a moment, done with slapping his own clothing and adjusting his glasses on his nose.  
“You worry too much. You should calm down for once and do what normal people do” Aranea told him; despite her cold tone and treatment, Ignis knew she was everything but careless or hateful. This was her attitude, not her feelings.  
“And what do normal people do?” Ignis asked to cool the mood a bit.  
“I don’t know” Aranea shrugged. “Go for a walk, talk things, stuff.”  
“I walk and talk thing” Ignis replied in self-defense, and she only rolled the eyes and side-smiled at him, moving a hand up to push him by the shoulder. Ignis only laughed very quietly at the motion.

“Ignis, there’s no point in living if you’ll be worried the whole time” Aranea reminded him a bit more softly than she tended to talk to him, looking up at his friend.  
“I understand” Ignis sighed. “I can’t help it. My father has gone places on his own before and it’s all been perfectly correct. I guess I should just…calm down.”  
“That’s what I’m saying, stop ignoring me and taking my ideas as it they were your own.”  
Ignis laughed softly but very briefly again, and Aranea smiled with him. Both started walking away of the small open space behind Ignis’ house to return to town.  
“You know, Ignis…” Aranea recalled without looking at him, walking slowly at his side. “If you really worry so much, I could send someone or go myself to look for him and guard him until he comes back.”

Ignis, however, shook the head softly.  
“No” he said. “It’s fine. If I send guards, or the very same captain of the town-guards, he will believe I’m a paranoid, obnoxious, little teen.”  
“Are you not?”  
Ignis was far too respectful with all the people, so the fact that his friend was a woman made it worse; he found it impossible to push her away while she made fun of him. No matter if this was the very same woman who had trained him or who insisted on playing pranks on him, Ignis was far too respectful and just could not bring himself to push her off no matter how much he wished it. In a friendly way, of course.  
“Seriously, though” Aranea continued, taking some steps ahead to stand in front of Ignis and stopping him that way. “I could go if you want.”

Ignis seemed to consider it for a moment. He looked at his friend with serious hesitation, with that Yes gleaming in his eyes.  
But he looked away and sighed, adjusting his glasses.  
“I’m honored, Aranea” he spoke softly. “But I will decline. My father is okay, and the guard is needed for tonight’s meeting at the hall.”  
“…you sure?” Aranea questioned him, crossing her arms and looking straight into his eyes without a single blink. He smiled down at her.  
“You’re very kind” Ignis thanked her. “But I’m sure.”

\--

He was not sure.  
While he was getting dressed for the ceremony at the hall, two hours earlier (but that’s Ignis to you, again), he constantly stopped and lost himself in his thoughts, hesitating over and over, and trying to figure out if denying for the guard’s help had been correct or not. He tried strongly to be calm, and it was not that he did not trust his dad…but that horrible presentiment was still nested in his entrails and refused to go away. If anything, it only grew worse with every passing minute.  
Once, as he dressed, perhaps even twice, he had stopped, lost in his thoughts, and had to fight the need of going to look for Aranea and tell her he had changed his mind. 

Aranea was the captain of the guards of town. She was greatly trained and possessed amazing skills for fighting. If it had not been thanks to healer Ardyn Izunia who had set up a magic barrier around most of the Insomnian towns (one barrier per town), daemons would probably dare every now and then to attack crowded places; and not even then would Ignis or Northern Insomnia fear.  
Ignis had asked her to train him since age seventeen. He remembered he used to train before, with a goal and reason he did not remember at all…but since age seventeen, more or less by the time his dad started struggling with his health and daemons were on the loose (Ignis did not remember to see them as often or at all until that age, five years ago, and since then until his present), he had asked Aranea to properly teach him to fight. Ignis could take care of his dad in the town, but if a person or a daemon attacked, he would be useless.

The least that Ignis Scientia wanted in his life was to be of no use or become an obstacle. 

He had cleaned himself and had gotten dressed in pants, a shirt and boots, but he still needed to put on the formal overcoat and the cape, which were currently resting on his bed. The event at the hall was that night, the third without his father. Ignis really had tried to stay calm but something kept bothering him on the inside. He showed it less than other people would normally do, but the truth was that he was feeling anxious.  
He sighed and caressed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index; focus, that’s all he needed. Stop letting his head wander off places that were not the one he was currently standing in. Stop letting his mind make fantasy scenarios up. Trust that everything went fine.  
Of course, he could have trusted a bit more easily if somebody had gone with his dad…maybe if he had asked Aranea instead of being so proud and tell her it was fine.  
Ignis mentally slapped himself as punishment for getting distracted in the middle of trying not to get distracted, and focused.

Just as he was finally putting his feet on the ground as he had been trying to and stretched a hand to take the formal overcoat on his bed, he heard a horse neighing outside his house. His hand froze the second he heard it: no matter if it was a neigh and sounded the same in all the horses in the world, he would never mistake the sound of his intimate friend of childhood.  
Ignis hurried to the window of his room and flew it open to get half his body outside and take a better look.  
His heart skipped a beat at the time he stopped breathing.  
Nox.

Ignis, breaking his usual composure and not really caring, ran across his room and violently opened the door, almost flying as he made his way downstairs and to the outside.  
“Nox!” he called in a mid-yell, the face pale and the eyes wide as he approached the mare. She kept snorting, nervous; her skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and her respiration was heavy and quick. Ignis took her by the head and looked at her, and the mare muzzled at him as if trying to speak his language with desperation. “Nox, what are you doing here!? Where is…?” Ignis did not finish questioning and focused on look at the horse, as if though by paying attention he would eventually be able to get a proper understanding of what she was trying to tell him. 

He tried to calm her: he got over his own panic and hid it under a mask of calm while shushing the animal gently. He caressed and patted her forehead and neck while gifting kind and reassuring words to her. Eventually, she stopped dancing nervously on her place and the breathing went back to normal, but she insisted on muzzling at Ignis, warning him about something. The man did not question her until she was properly calm. Only then, Ignis took her by the muzzle again and looked at her deep in the eye, focusing on understanding the horse whatever it could take.  
“Nox” he whispered, and slowly added, “where is my father?”  
The mare snorted and pressed the forehead to him only to push him gently afterwards, making the young man take two steps back.  
“Nox” he called again and made the horse look at him one more time. “Can you take me there?”

The mare snorted louder, almost as if wanting to scream ‘that’s what I’ve been telling you for the past fifteen minutes, dammit’. Ignis looked at her, not knowing well what to do now, and only patted her neck.  
“You can’t run desperately, baby girl” he told her. “But we can’t wait either. Hold still for a minute, if you may.”  
The horse shook the head in agreement, or so that was the way Ignis interpreted her actions. He hurried back into his house and returned upstairs. Once in his room, he looked under the bed and pulled out a box he kept there and opened it. He did not hesitate for a single second when he took the pair of daggers Cindy had gifted him two years ago.

Aranea had trained him well with the lance, and even though he could and would handle it if necessary, he also enjoyed of discretion, and got training on dual dagger fighting: he had practiced so well with them that they had become his main weapons of choice.  
He did not know what had happened, but for Nox to abandon Caleo it had to be bad. Whether there had been an enemy involved, human or not, Ignis was not sure but he was not going to take careless risks. Maybe the daggers would not be needed, but he brought them along nonetheless, putting them in their sheaths that he attached to the back of his belt, both facing to the sides so he could take them out quickly and easily if necessary.

He took his overcoat not because he wanted to look presentable; that was possibly the last thing he was thinking about in those moments. But it had been three days since his dad left and Nox came back; somewhere in between something happened, and Ignis was not sure when he would arrive, hence he needed protection for the cold of the night. He quickly put the coat on and did not bother on buttoning it, and instead took his cape. He wrapped it around his shoulders and tied it by his neck. As soon as he was done he took his pair of leather gloves from the drawer; again, he was not sure how long he would have to travel, and the gloves would help with both holding tightly onto the reins and to not drop the daggers while he used them.

Once he was fully dressed for the unexpected journey, he closed his window and made sure all the others were shut as well. When he looked around to make sure he did not need anything else, he stopped for a moment when he saw the kitchen. He hesitated for a few moments; if Nox had gone and come non-stop, his dad was a day and half away. Ignis needed some food…but there was no time for that. Instead of properly cooking something, the young man looked for things that did not require preparation; his intentions did not include stopping for a meal. The rest was necessary (he worried only for the horse; one day of no sleep would make no harm to him), but the only idea of sitting down to light a fire and cook something on it drove him angry. He had expected to find a little more, but he had to get adapted to only a few pieces of bread; no cheese or fruit. There was none. And not that he and his father could not buy more; it was Ignis’ obsession with buying only the freshest every morning what ended up in an empty cupboard, no stocks.

He cursed only mentally and packed the few pieces of bread into a bag. He would not go buy anything else: people would start questioning him. The least he wanted was to cause a fuss or for people to notice there was something wrong. He still took a few moments to take some valuable coins just in case and put them in a bag that he tied tightly to his belt.  
Once he made sure he did not forget anything else, he exited and closed the door under key, and reached again for the horse. When she saw him exit she snorted and shook the head again, as if impatient, even though she also seemed to be grateful for having gotten a rest. Ignis approached her and patted her forehead again.  
“Nox, I trust in you” he told her. “I know you must be exhausted, but you can do it, baby girl.”

The mare muzzled again at him, and he held the reins gently to guide her towards the east exit of town. He avoided main roads, and when he passed nearby Cindy’s and his grandfather’s workshop he looked away and hid his face behind Nox’s head. Not like his friend would be staring at the window 24/7, but he preferred to not take the risk.  
He stopped once he reached the exit, only for a moment, and looked at the path that disappeared in the distance; this was the last place he had seen his dad. If he could go back three days, if only…  
No time for regrets.

He hopped onto Nox and adjusted himself on the saddle. Before ordering her anything, he reached down to pat her neck gently and be closer to her ear.  
“Don’t rush, girl” he asked her in a sweet whisper. “You’ve gone and come in a hurry. I know dad’s in need, but you can’t run to death” as if it was about a little kid being chided, the mare snorted in response. “Don’t be stubborn. It’s better to go in a steady walk that allows us arrive there in three days than a wild run that gets us dead in two hours” said that, Ignis patted her again on the neck. Whether the animal understood literally every word or not, he did not care and had never cared; he had spoken to her as gently for all life and would always do. “Let’s go, Nox.”

With a gentle and subtle poke of his ankles on her sides, the mare started the go, much lighter without the cart on her.  
Despite Ignis’ instructions, Nox started jogging, and soon enough, she was running again.  
Ignis let her.

\--

Ignis and Nox could have gotten to the castle much sooner than expected if they had not stopped: the mare insisted on running or at least jogging when she really could not cope with the tiredness, and she was not carrying a cart with a machine on it anymore but only one man and his tiny bag that weighted nothing. The problem was that night was coming soon and Ignis had to force himself to stop at one of the small refuges on the middle of the road.

Seen as daemons were on the loose since he was seventeen and the situation was dangerous for travelers, Healer Ardyn Izunia, a man that seemed to have appeared from the heavens to fix all the problems, had not only set the barriers around each town but had also gone through towns requesting to do these small refuges for travelers.  
They were seen as ‘big huts’, but truth it they were small houses. They were not in the best of conditions and did not have any furniture besides a stove and a chair. The people that constructed them under the Healer’s request were not the most skilled, and as the money for materials came from the people’s own cooperation, they were rather poor, but at least they would not shatter under the rain. The refuges were set with a perfect precision of timing: they were one day away of the nearest town or the next refuge, exactly one day, so that a person with an average pace would part by dawn from their town and reach the first refuge an hour or so before sunset. 

It was not the building itself what kept people safe from daemons, but the magic around it. Again, that was thanks to Healer Izunia.  
Towns were safer because, besides the magic barriers, they were one big source of light. But the refuges had been more than enough for the travelers so far. 

Ignis parted late, but as Nox had been constantly jogging and running at times and she carried nothing but her rider, it had been a light go and they reached the refuge in less than a full day, and about half an hour after the sun had set down. Even though it was dark before they had gotten to the refuge, and despite having seen in the distance the gleam of a few daemons waking up, none had been close to him in his way to the small building.  
Once there, the horse immediately reached for the water set for the horses, drank, put herself to rest and fell asleep in a few blinks. Ignis made sure to light some torches outside and a few candles on the inside to give the place as much light as possible, just to double secure himself against the daemons. That night was peaceful and quiet: his mind, opposite to the day before, had been busy on the thought of his dad and wandered off a few times on the event at the town’s hall. 

He was supposed to be there. It was happening at the same time he sat there on the chair of a refuge, alone, with a sleeping horse outside, and with a dumb piece of bread in his hands. Maybe his uncle and the people of town would still be discussing the matters of every month, and he would be there at a side, taking notes of everything. There would be a boring air to it. Other people of council, with formal clothing. A mustache too, sometimes. The guards.

Aranea. Aranea, the captain, standing on the stage but all the way to the back, hands grasping her own forearms behind her back, looking around to make sure everything was in order, but not helping to question angrily and with worry at times ‘Where the hell did Specs go?’. 

And Cindy. Cindy with her grandfather Cid among the people of town, attending the meeting, and listening to the mayor. Maybe collaborating and giving her opinion as well at times. Answering some questions from other villagers. And quietly wondering what could have had been so dramatically important for Ignis to miss the reunion when he had abandoned his sick dad literally only to attend the god fucking damn reunion.

Ignis sighed in exasperation and got up, resisting the urge to kick something. If he had not been so uptight, if he had not been as dramatically well behaved, he would have had thanked his uncle, asked for sorry and would have left with his dad… If he had, his dad would not be…in whatever place he was now. If, if, if. Ignis resisted the urge to kick things, but he did smash a single fist against the stove, angered; people were right. All those critics on how he put a ridiculous amount of dedication in what he did to the point it was unnecessary and exaggerated were right: it was just taking notes. He had changed his dad for a few notes. 

The young man took hours to calm down before he could sit down to eat some of the bread he had packed.  
As he did, and with his mind spinning around in all those matters, he could not stop the images of the possible scenarios of what could have happened to his dad from breaking through into his head. At first he was doing alright.  
But as the possibilities in his head grew more realistic with every crumb he ate, Ignis could not deal with all the confusion and panic that he had bottled up in the past three days and which had finally exploded in the worst outcome when Nox came looking for him.  
The bread, along the rest of the food Ignis had previously eaten that day, came back out through his mouth and into a bucket that Ignis felt forced to wash afterwards.

\--

Nox, stubborn, scared and having slept well, hurried during most of the ride.

Out of what Ignis had noticed, the mare was not going east as it was supposed she had to have done the past days. Instead, she went northeast, then north, and finally west only to return northeast. The young man noticed there was no sense in the path but decided to trust in the animal: Nox could be only a mare but he really did trust that she knew what she was doing, and only let her carry him through the forest.  
Some hours later, Nox had entered to what felt like an entirely different forest; no path, or not a well traced one, and the trees were all nude and dark, the branches almost hiding all of the sky. Ignis guessed those trees were only late for spring. A month late, but…maybe.

Nox did not take long on exiting the forest, and even though she did not stop running, Ignis could not help but look up from her and open the mouth: the castle. He had heard fairytales of it and had seen it in the distance but he did not expect to ever be this close to it. While the mare ran, Ignis looked at the big building and its dark, wasted bricks. The whole façade was dirty with traces of rain from many years, and vines climbed on some of the walls.  
Ignis stared at it as it got closer to him, but focused on holding the reins when Nox went downhill quickly but safely. Once down on flat ground again, both continued going until reaching the gates of the outside wall. They were open as Nox had last left them when she kicked them to leave. Ignis did not stop to close them and let the mare guide him in a straight line to the stairs of the castle, and she stopped there.  
She had never liked interiors, so Ignis did not even try to push her in and only hopped down. He held Nox by the face and caressed her forehead.  
“Well done, baby girl” he soothed her. “Now relax; I’ll go look for dad and we’ll come back soon, okay?”

The mare neighed and muzzled at him multiple times. Ignis interpreted it as a way of hurrying him, never thinking the horse was worrying for him. He patted her again, and the mare snorted, trying to warn him, but Ignis was too focused into saving his dad to think of what could await inside.  
With a last pat, the young Scientia left the mare behind and quickly went upstairs. He did not knock; everybody knew the castle was abandoned. He wondered if maybe his dad had been attacked by daemons and had come to the castle to take refuge, but was too injured or had suffered a shock and could not get up. He sighed and closed the doors behind him when he entered. 

He pushed his glasses closer to his eyes; it was barely midday of a cloudy day, but everything was darker on the inside of the building, and he was not one for ambiguity; he wanted to make sure that all the shadows he saw were what they looked like and not something else. He carefully unsheathed one of his daggers and kept it half hidden under his cape and he started walking into the hall, looking at the sides.  
He saw an open door at a side, and carefully took a look of the room, but nobody was there. He got a glimpse of what seemed to be a big kitchen, but no one was there. He went upstairs and stopped at the landing some moments, staring around: the building was huge and beautiful, but it was not time for art appreciation. He had two ways, left or right, and did not know where to go.  
He doubted for a moment that it was a good idea at all, but he reminded to himself that no one lived in this castle, and that his dad waited somewhere.  
So he called.  
“Father?” 

His word echoed in the hall. He had not yelled, but it had been loud enough, he hoped. He waited some moments, but got no answer.  
“Dad!” he called louder this time. After a couple moments of waiting, he heard a few noises coming from somewhere to the left, so he started heading there. But as he was going upstairs, there was a much clearer noise coming from the right. And Ignis could easily figure out it had been a human voice, whimpering. He quickly turned around and waited some moments, but got no other sign. However, he still hopped down the stairs and hurried up the ones on the right and started looking in every door that he found. “Father! Is that you? Where are you!?”

Ignis had been about to leave a set of spiral staircases behind when the sound of the voice came cleared from there, echoing. The young man stopped and hurried upstairs, skipping two or three steps every now and then. He still held the dagger in a hand while running, and the stairs ended. He reached a hallway and got lost, not knowing which place to go.  
“Dad!” he called again, desperate for more clues. Getting none, he had no option but to look himself in every passing room and corner that he found. He spent some minutes running from side to side and going places, and he ended up going upstairs on a tower that looked even worse than the rest of the castle. “Dad!”  
“Ignis?”

Scientia son stopped in a snap when he heard the familiar voice and recognized it calling his name. He had reached the top of the tower and had come through the door, and apparently had gotten to the right place. He hurried into the hall; to his sides he could see empty cells. He looked at each one until spotting the one he was looking for without knowing he had been looking for a prison cell.  
“Dad!” Ignis yelled out a last time when he saw the figure of his dad curled up in one of the cells, nearby the metal bars. The young man basically threw himself to the ground in front of his dad, as if forgetting there were strong metal bars in between, and slipped his hands inside to get a hold of the older man’s arms. His dad, as struck and confused as his son, looked at him with wide eyes that did not understand and he only held Ignis’ arms back. “Dad, what are you doing here? What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Ignis, listen to me, it’s-”  
“Look at yourself; you’re pale” Ignis did not let his dad talk and instead started showering him with words himself. “Astrals, you look terrible, father; I didn’t bring…I forgot your medicine, I did not know you were like this; how is your heart doing? It’s okay, I’m here, and-”  
“Ignis, son, shut up and listen” Caleo hurried in a shouted-whisper. Instead of the joy Ignis had expected from his dad, there was only fear in his expression. The older man moved his hands to place them on Ignis’ cheeks. “You have to get out of here.”  
“What? I came for you, you can’t-”  
“Yes, I can” Scientia father continued whispering and Ignis did not understand; not like anybody would listen, he thought, but his dad seemed to be scared as if somebody was behind him threatening him with a sword. “There is no way to open the lock, I’ve tried; it’s senseless, Ignis, you have to-”

“Dad, I am not-”  
“-escape as quickly as you can, you must not stay here for any longer second, did you understand?” Caleo questioned him hurriedly and much more seriously than the man had ever spoken to his son ever before in all of their lives. Ignis stayed quiet and stared at him, not understanding. “You’ll run to the exit and you won’t stop for a single second until you’ve left, did you understand!?”  
“Dad…apologies, but…I do not seem to understand” Ignis stuttered out. “Who put y-?”  
“It’s the beast, Ignis!” his dad whispered intensely at him. “It’s the-!”

Ignis could not ask anything when, suddenly, something roared behind him. Before he could even react to the loud roar, he felt something taking a rough grip of him by behind, and he was suddenly thrown away across the hallway, violently, like he was just a shoe, while his dad screamed in the background.  
Ignis landed hurtfully and he lost orientation out of being taken off guard; still, his instinct was to turn around and put a dagger up at the time he took the other one from its sheath; almost as soon as he was facing up, he saw a dark and huge figure landing on him, hitting his hand and sending the dagger it held away and against the bars of the cell at a side.  
When the animal on top of him raised its claws, Ignis raised his other dagger and managed to hit it on the face, distracting it only enough for Ignis to roll and get away from under him and run towards his dad’s cell again. Only a few steps away of it, Ignis felt one of the huge hands grasp his ankle and he fell to the floor, but he held the dagger tightly.

“Ignis, no!” he heard his dad yell at the same time he rolled again onto his back and avoided a near attack by the beast, who had come back on top of him. “Don’t anger it! Stop!”  
Ignis breathed heavily and had the eyes as wide as they could come; his pupils had grown to almost cover the green of his eyes, and his heart beat madly inside him. He threw the dagger against the beast a couple of times, but it avoided him; on the other part, Ignis managed to avoid the claws that tried to tear him.  
“Don’t kill my son!” he heard his dad yelling in background. “I’ll do anything, but don’t kill my son!”  
It was not like one could talk with a beast, Ignis guessed, even less convince it to anything, so he continued struggling with it.  
He was a good fighter, of course…but the size and weight of the beast was too much for a man alone. 

After struggling for a few more seconds, one of the beast’s paws smashed his hand to the ground, the one that had kept the dagger, and the beast used its other paw to press down on his throat. Ignis gagged and moved his free hand up to get a hold of the monster's in a reflex of removing it; he was barely breathing, but not suffocating. It was strength enough to immobilize him and make him feel as if suffocating but not enough to really do and kill him. It was almost like the beast knew what it was doing; like it was a man trained in combat. He looked at the beast to the eyes and at first found them to be bright red. Its nostrils fluttered and it frowned at him with an anger unknown to humans, both in silence looking at each other. The beast’s heavy breath was hitting Ignis full on the face.  
“What are you doing here!?” the beast roared at him, and Ignis was not sure what to feel more shocked about: that a beast had just roared in his face or that it actually spoke. Ignis did not reply, so the beast, angered, took him by the clothes and shook him. “What are you doing here!?”  
“I heard fine the first time!” Ignis yelped back at him, coughing a couple times from the previous pressure on his throat. 

The beast seemed to be a bit startled by the answer, as if it had expected a different reaction. Ignis still coughed a couple times and, once done, he kept the terrified, wide eyes on the beast.  
“I came to look for my father…” despite his previous firm statement, and no matter how calm this one seemed to be, the truth is that Ignis felt he had whimpered it. He swallowed and tried to keep control over his bladder and body, but the latter did not stop furiously trembling. “I…came…looking for…my father…”  
“I heard fine the first time” the beast muttered at him and Ignis was not sure what to think; was this beast learning to talk and repeated Ignis’ words, or was it actually being…sarcastic? Ignis only frowned tremblingly as a response, but the fear surpassed any anger in him. “You had no right to have come in here, nor had he.”

Ignis was not given time to reply when the beast stood up and opened the cell Caleo was in, and furiously threw Ignis inside. The young man almost crashed with a wall, which could have been twice as dangerous, but he only hit the cold ground. It still hurt enough for him to lose orientation some moments again, before he felt his dad’s trembling hands on him.  
“Nobody is supposed to come here” the beast roared at them and shut the door closed. Ignis came up to his knees, recovering from the dizziness, and held onto his dad while the older man held him back, both looking at each other as if there was not a monster the size of three tough men a few feet from them. “You two have seen, you two must stay here forever now.”  
“But why?” Ignis dared to question him, coming to his knees and helping his dad to stay on his own; now that the adrenaline of the fear of seeing Ignis struggling with the behemoth-like creature had passed, his heart was not doing good; Caleo shrug into a ball, gripping at his shirt while Ignis tried to embrace him. “What’s wrong with having come in here?”

“Don’t question me!” the beast roared at him, and whether it was the relative sensation of safety from being separated by the metal bars or just anger, Ignis, for some reason, did not feel as terrified as he had been moments ago, and actually tried to argue back.  
“You can’t do this…not to him” Ignis said while shaking the head, taking off his cape and letting it down, only so that he could start taking off his overcoat as he spoke. “Do you not see? My father’s ill; you can’t keep him here, in a cold, dusty place. He needs fresh food, medicines and-”  
“I don’t _care_ ” the beast growled at him and raised a claw to point at them. Caleo shrugged in a small ball while whimpering, but Ignis did not seem bothered by it and only focused on wrapping his overcoat around his dad’s shoulders; senior Scientia had no cape. “Nobody can know about me or the others in the castle; your dad has seen too much.”

Ignis made sure to be gentle and soft while adjusting his clothing on his dad, and kept a palm flat on the older man’s back, rubbing it in soothing circles to see if he could calm down a bit.  
“If I let him go, he’ll speak about what he’s seen, and people will come” the beast continued. “And I cannot allow that. I’ve spent five years not allowing that.”  
“What if we promise to say nothing?” Ignis asked with the voice much firmer now, daring to turn in the direction of the beast but unable to look up at its eyes, unsure of whether that would anger it or not. At his suggestion, the beast let out a sound that could have had been a small, sarcastic laugh. That, or like his version of gagging on a ball of hair, like a giant cat.  
“The last people who came in through the doors with a promise” the beast growled at him, “broke it.”  
“You said it yourself, that was five years ago” Ignis insisted, keeping both hands on his dad; one on his back and the other on an arm. Caleo had the eyes closed, feeling terribly weak, with the head resting on one of his son’s shoulders. “We are not those people. If you could trust in us…”

“I don’t trust in you” the beast told him dryly, watching him with anger. “As simple as that.”  
“Listen, I need to get my father back to town” Ignis told him, exasperation showering his voice, but the still present fear, even if cooler now, did not allow him to still look at the beast to the face or to raise the voice more than a normal tone. “He’s…not doing well. If he stays here for any longer…”  
“That is not my problem” the beast snorted and gave them their back. Ignis’ hands grip on his dad grew a bit tighter but did not get to harm him, and the young man hurried on looking up at the beast.  
“Wait!” he called loudly. “What do you want to believe in us? Anything, what could be proof enough so that you believe we won’t say anything about the castle or you?”

Ignis moved slightly to a side so he did not let go of his dad but could get a glimpse of the hallway. For a moment he thought the beast would storm its way out, but he saw its shadow stop for a moment. Moments later, he saw the big monster turn around and start crawling back to their cell. Ignis hugged his dad again; if he wanted to cover his dad’s sight so the man would not see the monster and his heart could stay calm, or if it was Ignis himself looking for something to hold onto due to his own fear, he was not sure. The beast stopped in front of the cell again.  
“What I need” the beast started, “to be sure your dad won’t tell anyone, is that he stays here.”

Ignis looked up at the beast. There was a window from which some of the light of the day could make it in; there was not much Ignis could make out of his looks, for the day was cloudy and the window was slightly narrow, but the teeth, eyes and horns were easy to watch. Before saying anything, Ignis stopped for a moment when his eyes met those of the beast; he had previously been too terrified and in panic to pay attention, but now that everything was much calmer, the young brown-haired noticed he had been mistaken. The eyes were not red; they could give off such impression in the dark with only a source of light nearby that could make the irises brighter and give them that reddish impression. But no; in reality, they were brown. A very beautiful shade of brown Ignis did not remember to have ever seen in an animal before. 

Despite having lost his glasses when he was thrown across the hallway, his vision was not so terrible without them and he could see clearly the color of the eyes. The beast, however, frowned at him after a few seconds of looking at each other. It snorted in Ignis’ face and turned around again. The young Scientia felt his dad still trembling in his arms; there was no way out. The air was filled of constant tension, too much for his father to bear with…and even if the beast never appeared in the tower again, it was still too cold, and who knew if this thing would give him any food. Ignis needed, desperately, to take his dad out of there. He stayed still for some moments, and the beast started crawling away, snorting, but rather calm.  
“Wait!” Ignis requested again, and the beast, in a very bad mood, returned only to prepare to roar something and leave for once. But before it did, Ignis lowered the eyes and simply let it past his lips. “…and if _I_ stay?”

“Ignis!” his dad shouted-whispered at him, looking up at his son. Ignis ignored him and only held him more tightly, looking up at the beast and expecting an answer.  
“…you?” the beast questioned with a disgusted frown. Ignis sighed shortly and rolled the eyes, dropping the shoulders.  
“You may want to check your ears sometime soon; there could be excess of fur in them. Of course I, that's what I said” Ignis did not know why this was angering him this much to the point he dared to say such sort of things, but he could not help it.  
“Ignis, son, don’t anger it” Caleo pleaded to him, looking up at the younger Scientia and holding onto his arm and clothes. Ignis, however, did not look at him as if his dad did not exist. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, small human?” the beast asked him, getting close until his respiration, heavy by nature, hit Ignis whole on the face. He tried not to mind and not to lose his composure again.  
“I mean” Ignis started explaining, his eyes going down and to a side for a moment, not knowing where to stare at, “If what you worry about is that my dad will speak of what he’s seen when he goes back to town and has people coming over, then what we can do is that you let my father go and I stay in his place, as a way to secure he will keep his promise.”  
“Ignis-!”  
“That way” Ignis ignored his dad’s yelp and looked up at the beast with the firmest frown he could manage to hold, “I shall stay here, as my father's token of trust towards you; trust that you will do no harm to me, so long you trust back in the promise that he won't say a thing” by putting his only, beloved son as a hostage that could be murdered, but saying it like that would make Caleo refuse even more, so Ignis guessed 'token of trust' was a more careful way of putting it, “and, when you see time passes and nobody comes, you will see we are men of word. And I shall be freed until then, only when we earn your trust.”  
“If I accept, how do I know you won’t talk _after_ I set _you_ free?”

Ignis did not mind being questioned; it was the fact that the beast stayed and asked what gave him hopes. Any other creature like it (if there existed any alike) would have just left long ago, not caring.  
“You will have to trust” Ignis stated. “Let my father go, and I’ll stay here all the time that you need to trust that we won’t say a thing.”

“Ignis, stop, you can’t be serious” his dad started almost pleading him, holding his son tighter and trying to get his attention, but the other insisted on looking at the beast like they were alone. “I won’t let you-”  
“And I won’t let you die, dad” Ignis finally looked at him, frowning. “Listen, I can handle the conditions of this cell, but you can’t; you have to go back to the town, get the Healer’s help, and just promise me, with all of your heart, that you won’t say anything of what you’ve seen in here.”  
“Ignis, no-”  
“No matter how much time passes” Ignis told him much more softly now, looking directly at his dad’s eyes, ignoring the beast this time. It did not make a sound, anyway. “No matter how long it takes, I assure you I’ll be fine. Listen to me; it’s just a prison cell, not a torture chamber” his dad looked at him with terror, mouth opened and not knowing what to say. “I can cope with it for all the time that’s necessary…but do not speak of this to anyone, alright?”

“I accept your conditions, small human” the beast said with an imposing tone but without yelling or growling anymore. Caleo let out a trembling ‘No’ with effort, and while Ignis focused on looking at his dad and holding his arms and face to calm him down, the monster opened the door and reached inside. While Ignis tried to hurry on more instructions on not telling anyone, keeping the secret, and about not telling neither Cindy or Aranea or anybody else, the beast stepped inside and took Caleo by the back of his clothes again. That was Ignis’ favorite overcoat, currently and literally in the claws of a beast. It dragged his dad outside a bit more roughly than Ignis would have wanted, and the beast slammed the door closed almost on his nose. He held the bars, stretching a hand out to his dad, who held it for as long as he could, still receiving orders from his son in a cascade of words.

Caleo could not stop asking to stay and letting ‘No’s out, but the beast ignored him and kept going through the hallway.  
“-And go with Cindy and ask her for the bag I left with her past year, in case you need it!” Ignis continued with the instructions, holding onto the bars and unable to see the end of the hallway, and only listening as his dad whimpered and denied to leave. “It’s some emergency savings I have! It’s for your-”  
The door was slammed.  
“…medicine.”

Ignis stayed still some moments, holding onto the bars. His cape laid somewhere else in the room, now covered in dirt. His shirt, once white, now was covered with grey, black spots, a dot of red color, and some…fur. It was all messed up. His glasses, in he did not know which conditions, laid at the end of the hallway, and his daggers were scattered across it as well. He waited some moments more, frozen in his place, on his knees and holding the bars tightly.  
Only then did he understand what he had done.  
Ignis, in realization, let go of the bars and his body went limp after being tensed up, the back of his hands resting on his thighs. His respiration was calm but shaky. At first he could not blink, and he kept the head down.

After a few moments in which the shock left, Ignis eventually started blinking again.  
_No matter how much time passes_ , he had said.  
Was that going to be…years? How long would it take to earn the trust of a beast?


	3. Captivity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for messing with the order and the uploads: I'm new to AO3 and didn't know how to make this work.
> 
> Thanks to Friendly Neighbourhood Anon for helping me through and advicing me it was best to put the story up as chapters rather than separate works.
> 
> I hope it's more comfy for you guys. 
> 
> Enjoy and let me know what you think. <3

Ignis spent the rest of the evening and the night alone.

The beast did not bother to go visit again, so it was a very quiet day. Ignis had tried to get a look from the window some minutes after his dad was taken away, but he found out that the tower he was in did not face the front but rather the back of the gardens, so he could not see if Caleo had exited alright, even if he had taken half of his body out to try and get a better sight. There were no sounds either. He found himself to be entirely alone in a giant castle, with a huge animal as only company.

He checked the lock of the door; the beast handled it way too quickly every time he opened or closed when the mess happened, so Ignis guessed it was probably broken and was just there to trick people into thinking it worked. It turned out to be that Ignis was wrong; the thing worked, and incredibly good. He tried to open it with anything small that could get in it, and when he failed he tried to smash it broken, but there was no success either. When he had gotten a look outside the window, he found he was at least nine floors up and no way for his bare hands to hold onto something for a safe way down. The bars were impossible to bend even when he tried with all his strength. There was no lose tile or brick.  
He already knew it was senseless, but he still tried, only to find he really, really was trapped.

However, there was no panic that evening. Perhaps his brain adapted immediately to the situation or, the second theory he accepted best, he had had enough of a too intense shock in the past 24 hours to have any more panic left inside him. Maybe he had wasted his stronger emotions to the very last drop and there was nothing left to make him react like he probably should be doing; who knew, maybe scream, kick the walls, desperately cry, something. But…no. He just stood there, alone. After getting out of his frozen state of shock and after he had gone around the cell checking for any possibility of an escape, having found none, and after having walked in circles like an animal in a cage, he just…stood there. A bit awkward, too; the drama and stress had been big and messed, and right now the silence and peace were so great that it felt stupid. 

He almost expected the beast to come back and chop him in pieces, or to have it cut open his body and eat his entrails as he, still alive, watched, or maybe have the monster smash him multiple times to the walls and the floor just for fun. But he was left alone in complete peace.  
The only thing left for the moment was resignation.

When night hit, he remembered about his cape, currently thrown nearby his feet. He took it from the floor and wrapped himself in it. He had pretended not, but, in reality, the tower, perhaps out of the material it was made of or due to the narrow and long windows, was much colder than the real weather outside. His shirt was alright, but it was not enough, and only now he realized how much of a help his overcoat had been. Unlike his dad or most people, he was coldblooded and tended to shiver more easily than others, even if he always tended to dissimulate or deny it. Thank the Astrals he had kept the cape. It was not enough to make him a hundred percent warm, but at least he was not freezing to death so long he kept it.

He had still expected the beast to arrive at some point; he had heard a couple of noises at the door, like someone trying to open it, but doubted it was the beast…with paws so big, he would make louder noises. Or perhaps it was trying to scare him; if it talked and could hold a discussion, it was smart to some point, and if it was smart, maybe it mixed the bestiality with psychology, and it worked like that…scaring the victims, toyed with their minds, until they went mentally insane. And then, only then it made its way inside and tortured them, tortured them long and good enough until they would literally prefer death and begged to it to kill them.  
_Not today, you beast._

Ignis was a man that was not frightened easily. He stood in front of daemons with courage; not that he did not fear, he was just excellent at controlling it, making it a part of his strength rather than a distraction. Aranea had often praised him for it, saying that a man who knew how to handle fear was one in many thousands and often made great leaders and captains. He could face a talking mountain that could try to step on him and he would stand brave against it.  
But this was completely different…and he _was_ scared.  
He had tried to deny it to himself that first night…not noticing the way he had squeezed himself sat in a corner, the knees up to his chest, and the hands holding tightly onto the cape he was wrapped in as if it was a shield, staring intensely at the hallway, expecting, expecting, expecting the whole time for the beast to appear and try to attack him. 

Daemons were one thing; they were on the loose and they were creatures of instincts. Ignis could run free, take a position of advantage to attack, he had weapons and usually companions.  
But right now he had no single weapon, not even a damn tree branch, and he was locked in a small space, even smaller than his own room (and was it small already), in front of a narrow hallway (meaning only two directions to go), and the worst disadvantage to Ignis: his enemy could _think_. Whatever that thing was, it could speak, hold a conversation, pact deals. It could fight like a man; he had struggled with Ignis not like an average animal would have done…it had not been brute force, it had been carefully chosen and thought movements. A bit rough and aggressive, but thought through. Facing an opponent with intelligence, even if only at some level, was a different thing. And there was poor visibility…  
And his glasses, at the end of the hallway, by the door. His vision was acceptable, but he had grown way too used to his lenses, so after some hours without them and having to squint his eyes in the dark, his vision was already exhausted.

Like all of his body. Ignis did not notice due to the constant state of panic, alert and tension, but the truth was that he was exhausted; the stress of the past 3 days, the shock of seeing Nox arriving home alone, the intense race to the castle, the fight of his life with the beast, and having put himself in a cell for maybe the rest of his life had drained him emotionally and physically in equal proportions. The ride had been heavy; the rides on chocobo were much lighter to take, but horses were faster, and that was what he had aimed for (not to recall he owned no chocobo of his own, anyway). His butt hurt from the saddle; his legs, from the pressure they applied against the horse’s sides; his back and arms and everything else hurt from the ride. And the fight with the beast, Astrals, that had been the last blow to end with his muscles and limbs. 

Despite his state of alert and panic, Ignis fell asleep and he did not know in which moment it happened.

The next day he woke up out of hunger and thirst. Literally. If it had been for him, he would have slept a bit more, but his stomach screamed and trembled so strongly that it shook him awake. Startled from the sleep, Ignis woke up much, much slower than he was used to. His mind was empty; he was recently waking up. He felt the cold wall against his face but his brain did not process the information until some moments later in which his senses all came back. He paid attention and when he realized he was still sat on a cold and dirty floor, he moved slightly up and looked around.  
It had not been a nightmare…  
Ignis stayed frozen some moments before sighing. It had _not_ been a nightmare. Everything was there just as he remembered it. The whole story made no sense and was impossible, but there he was. 

He moved a hand up and passed it through his hair; with the mess of the last day and everything else, it had lost its shape. Ignis usually combed it back after cleaning himself, and it naturally stick upwards on the front part and he let it be. But right now, and staring around, he had nothing to use to clean, and his hair had gone to its natural state; down, covering his face in a messed up and shapeless fringe. Staring around, he found, literally, one empty bucket, his dad’s thorn cape (that would cover nothing in the state it was in), and a tiny pillow. Like he was an animal. Less than an animal.  
And there was no food…

Ignis put a hand to his stomach. Maybe there was going to be one meal per day. Or nothing. He found it senseless that the beast would let him starve; it most surely wanted to eat him, so there was no sense in letting him starve to death. If anything, it should be the other way around; it should be feeding him to make him fat before properly killing him to eat.  
Maybe he was thinking too much through things…  
He sighed and tried to stand up, but it took him three times the effort he had expected; only then, out of the panic state of the previous night, he realized how much his entire body hurt. How tired he was. Still, he made his way up to his feet and stretched, groaning in pain as he did. He also moved a hand up to caress his throat; out of how it felt, he would not be surprised if all the skin of his neck was one giant bruise. He looked around to see what he could do and…well, nothing. There was nothing he could do. He was a prisoner and there was nothing to do except…wait, maybe. For months, years, a life. Who knew.

Ignis sighed and decided to just…wait.  
He had not wanted to, but he let his body slip against the wall until he was sat against it again.  
His entire body hurt so much…

\--

There was no food for lunch, and no food for dinner either.  
Ignis had been too proud at lunch time to admit he did not care, but it was heavy to deal with no dinner either. And not that he could not stand a day without eating. The problem was that he had not eaten, in theory, in three days; two days ago, he had thrown up all that he ate that day so there went all the nutrients he could have gotten; the following day he was too busy riding to the castle and fighting a beast to get a snack somewhere in between; and now this, a whole day going without a single visit from the beast and, of course, no food. Not even dog or chocobo food like he maybe expected; with a thinking beast, he would not be surprised if it tried to humiliate him by serving him such kind of food.

Would he have eaten that if he had had a dish of it? Ignis was not a picky eater but he liked his food to be carefully and greatly done and well served. If he had gone a day without food and the beast had served him that, Ignis would have thanked it for “sharing some of its food with him”, but those were three days…would he have actually lost his pride, gone submissive, and really eat it?  
There was no point in wondering. And, still, it was the only thing he could do. There was literally nothing to do in the cell except walk in small circles or do nothing. Besides, he did not care for food, not by now.

Water.

Last time he had drank something was before parting from the refuge of the road to the castle. By the following morning, that would be two days. It really did not seem as much, so he was not sure whether he was just weak or if it was perfectly normal, but his thirst was greater than the hunger, despite having gotten water more recently than food. His lips had gone dry and he, in reflexes, tended to lick them but his tongue had eventually started to get more dry than usual and it helped very poorly. As reflex as well, because he was conscious it helped in nothing, he sometimes swallowed, with no help for his thirst.

By night, he sat down against a wall and completely lost his usual composure; no longer could he sit straight, hands on a knee or the thighs, the body still. No, right in those moments he was just thrown there, exhausted, terribly exhausted and going through hunger and thirst in quantity and quality he had never experienced before. And those factors led him to be half-thrown half-sat against that wall, arms and legs loose, a hand on the tummy except it did not move, and the other on the dirty floor, almost as if he was but a corpse randomly thrown somewhere. 

Having nothing to do except talk with his thoughts, they wandered off to thinking if he had done the right thing. He had gotten his father out of the castle and away of the beast (that is, if it really kept the promise), and if everything turned out as planned, he would be back in town getting the Healer’s help. But having lost his only son must have had been the most terrible shocks of all. It was not that Ignis was egocentric and thought that his captivity would destroy his dad; it was that he was completely aware both objectively and subjectively of how much his dad really did love him, and therefore he really did know, objectively, that it _would_ destroy him.

His dad loved him simply because he was his only son. There was no reason for a father to love his son other than just that fact being true. But Ignis had it worse when he knew he was “identical” to his mom. It was obvious the manly factions of the skull and body would be different, but the main idea, the main pattern, the main “design” of his looks were entirely his mother’s. The eyes included, in shape and color. The hair color. The eyebrows. Even the myopia. The attitude. He was a taller and male version of his mom.  
And his dad had loved his mom so, so much…he had loved her so much that she had probably been the reason of Caleo’s illness, without it being her intention. She had died when Ignis was seven or so; the doctor said that maybe the pain Caleo dealt with through the years had been too much for his body to bear with, and it finally broke under the sorrow.

Having loved his wife so much, and with the heart dedicated full to his son, who, besides being his only son, looked exactly like the wife, it was obvious to anybody how great the love Caleo felt for Ignis was. Ignis knew it too. And that was what was leading him to think maybe this was not the best idea: Caleo could have saved his life from a beast and its claws, but nothing would stop his heart from shattering out of Ignis’ captivity. Maybe, as soon as he reached town, the pain would be so much it would end what Ignis’ mom started, and would finally break his heart in half much more literally than it sounded like.

He wondered how Caleo would handle his death. Ignis’. Because it was mostly clear that Ignis was never going to go back home. He had stayed at the castle on his free will, and would never walk out of it again. Maybe not even out of the cell itself. It was a beast he was dealing with, not a man; of course the promise was not up. It would kill him or let him die.  
Ignis was fully aware that he would not exit when he made his choice. He was aware, the whole time. He just had not thought that the heartbreak would be so literal in Caleo that it would kill him too. Then again, Ignis preferred it this way: if the beast was to kill him and Caleo was to die out of a heartbreak, then so it would be. That way, Caleo would not see Ignis dying, would not suffer through see Ignis being cut in pieces in front of him, and he would die in relative peace. He could not save his dad from dying, but at least Ignis could save him from physical suffering through it. It would be much better to die of a heart attack than tortured by the beast. Like Ignis would be. 

That, or it would let him starve to death. While the thoughts kept coming and going, Ignis, by this point, could not help but chuckle bitterly; if he kept building these ideas, he would definitely need a Drama Queen crown.  
He reminded to himself that this could be worse and that he was exaggerating. He reminded it to himself multiple times.  
And, still, he passed out and did not wake up in any moment over the night.

\-------------

The wake up of that, officially the second day in the castle if one did not count the first evening and night, was totally different. 

The body exhausted and weak from starving and starting to dehydrate, Ignis, when passing out last night, had slipped down from his spot sat on the ground and had fallen to lie on the floor, face-down. He woke up not only out of hunger and thirst again, but also at the sensation of somebody staring at him. The stare had have been there for too long or had to have been too intense, because Ignis woke up entirely certain that somebody was looking at him as he slept. That was why this time he could hurry on waking up, unlike the previous day, and his eyes snapped open.

It only took him half a second before finding the pair of wide, blue eyes on him, one foot from his own face. He gasped quietly and pulled his head up from the floor, coming up on a hand and forearm and not taking his eyes off what was there.  
A golden and black candelabra…looking at him?  
“Hello!” the candelabra suddenly greeted loudly, hopping a step closer to him and leaning closer. “My name is-!”  
As it spoke, Ignis had reached for the tiny pillow he did not even use and used it to hit the candelabra as hard as he could, sending it flying backwards until hitting the bars of the cell.  
“Ow! Ow, dude! What is your problem!?”

Ignis did not take his time to speak with the object and hurried to stand on his feet, getting closer to the candelabra once again and using the pillow to hit it again. This time the candelabra hit one of the walls of the cell, screaming after being hit.  
“Ow! Man, not cool!” Ignis heard the candelabra complaining, and just as he was heading to it for another hit, the metal object hurried on hopping until reaching the metal bars; Ignis swung the tiny and rock-hard pillow to it, but the candelabra was faster and slipped through the metal bars, putting itself in safety behind them. “Dude, chill! What’s wrong with you!?”

Ignis only looked down at it with a frown, dropping the pillow now that it was senseless to try and attack this thing. He only stared with a cautious look at the object, and saw it hopping a bit on the hallway, looking at the man as if though the strange creature was him. Ignis had opened the mouth to question it, but shut his mouth: he was about to ask a question to a candelabra. That was it, he had lost his head. The thirst or hunger had finally led him to hallucinate. And he did not see daemons or stars sparkling in his eyes or his father’s ghost, no; of course, he started seeing a talking and moving candelabra. Fantastic.  
“Dude, relax” the metal furniture told him, using two of its arms to motion as if asking for quiet. Ignis still did not reply. “Don’t make too much noise or you’ll change his mind.”

Ignis had many questions, but he was too proud to ask none: he was not going to speak with his hallucinations. After a few moments, and before the candelabra could tell him anything else, the door sounded again, and there were clicking sounds as if somebody was constantly hitting two dishes against one another, not in an attempt of breaking them, just to make noise.  
And more voices appeared.  
“Prompto! We told you not to hurry” a female voice chided. “I hope you did not scare him.”  
“Scare him?” the candelabra questioned to someone on the hallway that was currently out of Ignis’ range of sight. “He almost kills me! I should be the one getting scared!”  
“That wouldn’t be new” a male voice that sounded sleepy, almost mid yawn. 

Ignis heard the candelabra starting to complain, but he found himself too busy looking at the new companions to care on their argument: a tea pot was hopping its way towards the candelabra, and behind her a small tea cup was following close, happily. Behind them and with the laziest going Ignis had ever seen before, and with a strange way of stepping, almost as if though a leg was an inch shorter than the other, a black and blue clock was coming along.  
“Stop arguing, you two” the tea pot was requesting from the clock and the candelabra. “Prompto, we did tell you to wait a bit; you left all the work to us.”  
“I was excited!” the candelabra complained. “Come on, I hadn’t had a chance to see him just yet.”  
“None of us” the clock said dryly, but not coldly; perhaps it was just waking up and that was why it sounded so…like that.  
“You did get to see him when he passed by” the candelabra argued. “I didn’t; I only heard everything, but-”  
“Enough, you two!”

Ignis could hear them argue, but he had nothing to say. He was not sure how to react. For an odd reason, the panic only came at first with the candelabra, but seeing a whole set of furniture pieces going around, arguing, and hopping from place to place was not amusing him or causing anything in him. If anything, he was a bit confused, but he was no longer surprised. Perhaps it was out of being almost certain that this was all unreal and in his head, but he really did not panic watching the furniture friends outside his cell. He only looked down at them, having no reaction to offer. They kept arguing a bit, before the tea pot, the cup and the candelabra left from where they came from, constantly arguing, and the clock only sat down outside his cell with a lazy sigh. When Ignis tried to get a look of it, the clock seemed to have closed the eyes as if to sleep.

Ignis sighed and passed a hand through his hair, even more messed up than the previous day. He did not feel it as he was still wearing his leather gloves, but he knew his hair had to be all sticky now, since he had not been given anything that he could use to clean himself. He turned around, decided to get a look outside the narrow window only so he would not have to deal with the things his mind was making him see, and found himself stumbling until he had to hold onto a wall, trembling; he felt awfully weak, in a way he had never experienced before. He passed his dry tongue on his chapped lips, but it worked of nothing.  
“-go ask them if there was any left, I’m sure there was” he heard the female voice requesting and the sound of dishes again, which was just her when she jumped around. “And ask them to please bring some upstairs, okay, Talcott? Thank you.”

Ignis looked over his shoulder to see what was happening. The tea pot and candelabra had returned. He, however, this time cared even less about what they had or not to say, or if they were part of his mind or not, and immediately turned around, eyes widening and a tiny gasp past his lips.  
They had food. And water.  
The young brown-haired could not help himself; despite his usual attitude and composure, and almost like he had become somebody else, he did not care about his pride or looks anymore, and simply took some steps closer to the bars of the cell and let himself go down to his knees in front of them, staring at the silvery glass filled of water and the dish with some bread on it.

He would have never expected that he would look like that one day, but he did not notice either, the way he had come to his knees, hunchback from the weakness, elbows trembling as his hands were firm on the floor standing part of his weight, the hair sticky, dirty and undone falling to his face, all of him covered in dust, the cape hanging from him and the eyes pleading to a piece of furniture.

He had started to reach a hand out for the glass, but it stopped and he found himself staring up at the objects before him. All of them had gone quiet and looked at him. The clock, despite its attempts of trying to seem uninterested, glanced at him from time to time. The candelabra was cheeky on it and widely smiled at him. The tea pot was the best to look at, because it looked at him with sweetness and comprehension enough for Ignis to not take his eyes off it.  
“Go ahead” the tea pot, with a juvenile voice of a teenage girl, offered warmly. “It _is_ for you.”  
Ignis looked at her a bit hesitatingly, but then his eyes went down and he let out a shaky, short breath.  
“…thank you.”

His hand slipped through the bars and the first thing he did was to take the glass of water. He brought it inside and he drank; he had tried to remind to himself to be rational and drink it slowly, but his body, desperate, hurried him more than he was aware of. He drank all the content, and only a drop slipped down from the corner of his lips to his chin. He put the glass at a side and cleaned that drop, embarrassed. Still, he closed the eyes and kept the head down, sighing.  
A glass of water had never felt so great before…  
The water was not cold, but it felt freezing in his dry mouth, in a very satisfying way; it was like the sensation of a dam breaking and letting the water of an ocean cover a desert.  
He stayed still some moments, having left the glass at a side. He licked his lips in a reflex and sighed tremblingly. The glass had felt like heaven, but…if he was honest, he was still feeling thirsty. He swallowed, finally feeling at least some lubrication in his throat rather than sandpaper, and looked up at the three objects that still watched him.

“Do you…” he started and swallowed again. He looked away and felt a humiliating sensation of defeat; he was aware he had to look miserable, and even when it was furniture what was seeing him and not people, he still felt embarrassed. “…could you…if I may…”  
“…more water?” the tea pot suggested. Ignis stared away and nodded with some unusual shyness. “Of course, sir” she smiled. “But it’s going to be only one more glass, okay? Not that we don’t want to give you more, but you haven’t eaten in a day or two and it’s going to harm you to overload your stomach.”  
It had been three days, starting the fourth, if he had to be more precise, but he said nothing. His usual uptight attitude had all crumbled down and he decided, by nature, to behave and be submissive to them, so long they would feed him. 

He nodded, understanding and agreeing, and took the glass again to put it out. He had expected any of the objects to take it and hop away, but the tea pot filled the glass herself, with a little help from the candelabra. While they filled it, the clock sighed and Ignis turned to look at it.  
“There’s food, too” the clock said and stared away of the man, as if embarrassed itself, frowning a bit as well. “Take it. You should…eh…you know, drink little by little while you eat or…something.”  
Ignis had almost forgotten, and at the mention of food his stomach roared as a complaint. Ignis looked again at the bread, and after hesitating a bit he reached for it and brought it through the bars. He sat back down onto his butt rather than stand on his knees and he held the bread with both hands. He did not separate it and ate it part by part; he simply opened the mouth and took a bite of the full thing, even though he did it slowly and carefully. 

Ignis had hesitated not only by not knowing if they were offering him the food or not, but because he was also aware that both the water and the bread could be poisoned. He had no reason to trust in the beast or its…magical servants of sorts, and he was fully conscious that they could have been ‘kind’ to him with this, or that it was just them poisoning him. He knew it, but he ate and drank nonetheless; there were only two outcomes to this, he was poisoned or not. If he was not, he would have eaten and drank something. If it was, he would die soon in a fast and relatively kind way; death by poison was much better than the long torture of starvation and dehydration. Seen as there was no result in not accepting the food and there were two ‘good’ outcomes to agreeing, he simply ate.  
And it felt wonderful.

There were three pieces of bread on the dish, and he had had two glasses of water, but that was it. He did not complain, but he craved for more. Then again, the tea pot was right; he could not overdo and force too much to his stomach even when it asked for it, or he would have more troubles than what he was already dealing with.  
When he was done, he just sat there, the head down and the respiration calm. He moved a hand up to clean some crumbs from his chin, and he remembered he had not shaved in the past days. If he was right, he would have a small millimeter of length of beard. His skin was mostly hairless except for the face, but he kept it shaved. When he could. When he was not a prisoner with nothing to use except for a bucket to pee in and a pillow as soft as a rock to hit speaking candelabras with.  
His body had stopped trembling, but his limbs still felt tense and weak at the same time. He stayed there in complete silence, enjoying of the food and feeling slightly more alive. After a few moments, he dared to look up and found he was not hallucinating…maybe. Having eaten and drank, the talking furniture was still there.

He looked at them one by one, and found himself staring at some point in between the furniture and himself.  
“…thank you” he whispered.  
“It’s alright, buddy” he heard the candelabra’s happy voice answering, and heard some clicking, the sound that it made when it hopped, Ignis learned. “You feeling better now?”  
“At some point, yes” Ignis nodded.  
“Heh, you look terrible” the clock said and Ignis looked at it some moments. It had the voice of a young man, but perhaps a bit older than the candelabra’s…or just less bouncy-like. Ignis had been about to give a sarcastic reply, but he remembered that maybe these magical things were going to be his only source of food, and he forced himself to silence. The clock took it as a chance to speak again “And I apologize for it.”

Ignis did not know if this could be a weird behavior in the clock, but he found both the tea pot and the candelabra turning to look at the clock as if they had not expected it, but soon staring away as if ashamed themselves. The clock did not take its eyes off Ignis, who suddenly let his shoulders fall a bit more, feeling a bit bad for having almost snapped a sarcastic comment instead of waiting. The clock had looked like a little piece of trash (in attitude), but maybe it was only that Ignis had not given it a chance.  
“If we could, we would have brought food to you earlier” the clock continued, and then stared away, looking a bit embarrassed. “I uh…you know, it was out of our reach, but we…yeah. I’m sorry.”

Ignis was not sure what the case could be. He guessed that the most probable thing was that the beast had given them explicit orders to let him die, and he thought that, then, they had come here in secret and against its orders.  
“It’s…fine” Ignis replied quietly. “I’m grateful for the food, nonetheless, and I hope none of you are getting in troubles for it.”  
“No worries, dude” the candelabra replied with a happy and single bounce on itself. “We’ll bring you food every day, don’t worry.”  
Ignis smiled at the candelabra. Despite the shock it had given him and the terrible way it had woken him up with, it did not have bad intentions. It seemed to be a bit hyperactive, but also insisted, explicitly and implicitly, on caring for him, for some reason.  
“…I’m sorry I hit you earlier…uhm…”  
“Prompto!” the object reminded him, putting the arms up like they were meant in a candelabra. “My name’s Prompto, nice to meet you!”

Ignis, a bit slowly but not scared at all, reached a hand down and carefully held the candle that Prompto was offering to him, and shook it.  
“It’s an honor…Prompto” the man said and his attention turned to the tea pot. “I’m afraid I have not asked for your name.”  
“I’m Iris!” the tea pot greeted happily, even though less bouncy than the candelabra, and she offered some motion that almost passed as a reverence of sorts. “It’s all a pleasure, sir. I heard it that night, but I think I forgot; what’s your name?”  
“I’m Scientia, Ignis” he replied as quietly as he had been doing all over the conversation. He realized that he had eventually lost some fear of talking with the furniture, and had grown used to it. Like it was normal at all. “The honor is mine, Iris. Thank you for carrying with water for me.”

The tea pot seemed a bit shy at that, as if she enjoyed of compliments and acknowledgment, and she smiled at him. He returned the gesture, a bit weakly, and turned to look at the clock.  
“And you, sir?” Ignis was not sure how old the clock had to be; his voice and the air to itself gave him the idea that it could be younger than him, but he did not dare sound disrespectful and decided to add that ‘sir’ anyway.  
“I, uh…” the clock hesitated a bit, staring away of him.  
“That’s Noct!” Prompto said happily and hopped its…his way to the clock, throwing his arms around the clock to hug it, while it stared away, a bit embarrassed and not returning the hug. “And we’re best friends, right, Noct?”  
“Noct?” 

The three furniture pieces looked at Ignis with wide eyes; when Prompto looked around in childish panic, Iris gave him wide eyes that were clearly chiding him and threatening him to death, and the clock had only stared down, frowning and trying to hide the panic. Ignis was too busy staring down and frowning slightly to notice.  
“Noct…” he whispered again.  
“Is anything the matter, Ignis?” Iris asked trying not to act off, and watched the man in the cell still trying very hard to remember something.  
“No, I just…” he stayed quiet some moments, after which he sighed and tried to smile at them, but the weakness that was nested in his entire system could only allow him for a very exhausted yet honest, tiny smile. “It was some sort of déjà vu. As if though I had known the name from somewhere, but…I do not.” Prompto nervously laughed and stared at the sides, but the others just ignored him. “Noct. It’s an honor.”

“I’m…Noctis, actually” the clock said, and Prompto gave him wide eyes but was ignored. The name had already been delivered, so there were no troubles on saying it full, the clock guessed. “Not that you can’t call me Noct, I mean, you can. It’d be a bit weird, but if you want…I uh…nice to…it’s…yeah. Hello.”  
“Hello” Ignis delivered back with a tiny and very subtle laugh. The clock was awkward, but Ignis found that to be quite adorable; it took from him the idea that it…he, Noctis, could be older. He was like a teen struggling his way through adulthood. “Thank you for…the worry of sorts, Noctis. I owe you three my life.”

The three seemed to have expected anything but that, as they all looked up at him and shared glances between them, almost like one expected to copy the others’ reactions but finding none knew what to do. Ignis wondered if they were maybe expecting Ignis to rage against them, blame them for everything, curse them and try to kill them, but instead had found a man thanking them not because they treated him well, but because they just did not let him die. After some moments, Prompto looked up at him with clear embarrassment.  
“You…don’t” he said with a slight hint of fear in the voice. “If anything, we should have…I mean, you don’t owe us anything…”  
“You wouldn’t even have…I mean…we wouldn’t even have needed to save your life if we hadn’t put it in danger in the first place” Noctis tried to continue with the idea of his friend, and the three stayed quiet.  
“It was not you” Ignis told them carefully. “It was…that thing” none of the furniture said anything, and Ignis only stared down, burying his fingers in his pants by the thighs in a weak, halfway-done fist. “…that was what put me here…and I guess it was also what forbid you to come earlier.”

“It?” Prompto questioned with big and innocent eyes. “Do you mean Gladio? Gladio’s a dude.”  
“Gladio?” Ignis questioned, and in the fear that it would cause him another déjà vu, Iris stepped closer and interrupted.  
“What you did for you dad was very, very brave, Ignis” she told him and, even though she had done it to change the conversation matter, it had been totally honest. Ignis looked at her with no answer.  
“Yeah” Prompto joined, sounding less bouncy now and a bit more serious, without going down to coldness and always keeping that now characteristic smile of his. “Even if I had had weapons like you or if I were bigger, I would have never fought Gladio, not even for money.”  
“The decision to stay was also very brave” Iris added as if though that had been what she meant in the first place and was taking the subject back. “You must love your dad very dearly.” 

Ignis’ eyebrows involuntarily furrowed and he looked down again. That was a phrase he knew very well and that people told him way much more often than necessary, and he always replied with a nod, a short agreement, or did not reply. But right now, having been saved from starvation, after crazy days and weak both in the body and the heart, and in the certain knowledge that he was going to die soon, he did not even notice until he was saying it.  
“…he’s the only family I’ve got” he whispered. “I mean, I have my uncle and cousin, but they…” he stopped for some moments, in realization of what he was doing. After some seconds, he sighed and looked at the furniture again with a tiny, this time forced smile. “My apologies. I got carried away.”  
“By the way” Prompto said as he hopped away towards the end of the hallway where the door was supposed to be. “The glasses, I guess they’re yours, right, Ignis?”

“Ah, my spectacles…” Ignis blinked; among the whole situation spinning in his head and the panic of almost dying, he had almost forgotten about them. Prompto’s clicking sound carried on before a short stop, and they started sounding again, this time in a crescendo. “Yes, they are.”  
“Here they are” Prompto offered after he had managed to come back hopping, bringing the glasses in his…hands. Candles.  
Ignis looked at them and softly accepted them. When he brought them closer to take a look, he found that, for his surprise, they were almost intact. He was sure that having flown away of his face and landing on the hard floor must have weakened them some way, and so they would not last as they were meant to for many years, but they were in perfect state besides that. The lenses did not break, they did not even shatter, and the arms did not bend; the nose pads were intact, and the bridge had not broken or bent either. 

He smiled at them; it was like he had been nude but had only noticed when he was given back his glasses, and those would fully dress him. He had thought of using his cape or clothes to clean them, but, in the state his clothes were in, he would only dirty the lenses to unfixable measures. So he simply put them on, blinking behind them a couple of times, smiling.  
“Thank you, Prompto” he said kindly, reaching a hand down and using the tip of one of his fingers to scratch lightly the top of the candle that would be Prompto’s head. The candelabra had shown a slight flinch of not expecting that, but he was soon giggling quietly under the touch. “You all are being kind to me. I had expected everything in the castle, except this.”  
“Kindness?” Iris questioned.  
“Magic furniture” Ignis smiled with some fun down at the tea pot. “But yes, kindness too.”

“Hey, that’s rude from you” Prompto called out, and he looked at his friends. “None of us are rude. I mean, maybe mister Libertus, and sometimes you too, Noct, but we’re not rude, are we?”  
“You mean there are more of…you?” Ignis questioned, not really know how to refer to them.  
“Of course!” Prompto again. From what Ignis was gathering, this candelabra enjoyed talking and sharing information if he was given the chance. “The entire castle is full of…us” he had sounded as if he had wanted to say another word but had replaced it in the last second. “I’m used to it, but I guess you’re not, so don’t be surprised if you see drawers and closets wandering about.”  
“Well” Ignis chuckled bittersweetly. “It is not like I can go to another room, or like this is the liveliest place in the castle.”  
“Oh” Prompto suddenly seemed embarrassed, and his head went lightly down. “I-I’m sorry…”  
“It’s alright” Ignis replied very quietly. “I was who put myself in here, in some way…”

The four stayed quiet. Ignis did not mean to sound as pathetic as he guessed it had come out; he did not want their sympathy, and he had not thought of earning it as some start to have them set him free. He was just feeling terribly upset and defeated. He had for sure he was about to die, sooner or later in the next couple of days, and that knowledge brought down the pride of any man. The ego too. Hope, too…  
The three furniture pieces looked ashamed and sad each on their own way. After some moments in silence, it was Iris who broke the silence.  
“I want to apologize for what my…for what Gladiolus did, mister Ignis” the tea pot told him. “He’s not…he doesn’t tend to behave like that. And I’m not justifying him; he really is not what you think.”  
“Gladiolus?” Ignis questioned again, and shook off the déjà vu at the second mention of the name. “That thing has a name?”  
“He’s not a thing!” 

Ignis stayed quiet, a bit startled; he had not expected Iris to snap out like that, almost like he had insulted her in some or other way.  
“…my apologies, Iris” he whispered. “It was not my intention, if I have offended you in some way. I just thought…that it…that he…was a…beast.”  
“Well, you can’t say he’s not” Prompto, the head hanging to a side. “But he’s…not that kind of beast, you understand?”  
“No” short, but soft and totally true. Ignis really did not understand; beasts did not talk, and they most certainly did not hold discussions and agreed to pacts. “What is…he?”

None answered his question. Before any of them could, there was a sound at the door.  
“What is taking you three so long?”  
Ignis could not help the tension that struck all his limbs; that, deep and firm, was the voice of the thi-…Gladiolus. Who had attacked him some nights ago. Who had almost killed his dad. Had almost killed him too. Had almost also let him starve to death.  
Ignis sighed tremblingly and very subtly, somehow expecting to see the beast walk in and threaten him or something. However, instead of that, the furniture looked at him again.  
“I’m sorry, mister Ignis” Iris apologized. “We have to go.”  
“But we’ll see you later, buddy!” Ignis let the candelabra call him that; so long it would keep the promise of constantly bringing food and water, Ignis would even let them insult him. Sometimes. Not really, there were lines not to cross. Ignis mentally shook the head; not the time to be proud.  
“I’m sorry again” the clock looked at him while his other two friends were already hopping their way to the end of the hallway. “If it had been up to me…”

“Never mind that, Noctis” Ignis shook the head softly. “I understand.”  
The clock gave a half nod at him and started going away with that characteristic limping-like motion of his. Ignis watched him go away until he was out of sight, and simply stayed in his place and heard the door close. He waited some moments, but the beast had not come in. He was left alone again.  
He sighed and put a hand to his stomach.  
Maybe a fourth piece of bread would have made no harm…

\-------------

By night, Ignis started guessing that maybe the talking furniture _had_ been an illusion.  
Because despite their promise of bringing more food, they did not come back for lunch or dinner.

Ignis was sat against a wall, miserable. He was not lying on the ground only thanks to the little hint of pride that he still kept, but truth is he felt awful. Not only had the ache of his body not disappeared, but had also worsened; after the very long ride on horse and the fight with the beast, the last thing his body needed was a cold, hard and irregular floor to sleep on for more than one night already. He had slept every night, but for some reason he was tired the whole time, and felt unrested. And the hunger and thirst, always there.

For a moment, he thought that maybe _this_ was the beast’s plan all along: maybe it was not attempting to let him starve to death, but worse. Maybe it would leave him with no food or water for three days, feed him once, promise more, and let another three days pass, and feed him right on the edge of dying, and repeat the process to maintain Ignis in a vicious cycle, in a constant torture: let him starve, give him enough food to survive but not enough to properly live, and then let him starve again, only to repeat. To be so huge and hairy, that thing was devilishly smart. 

Ignis’ dramatic thoughts, however, were thrown down the following morning, when he woke up to the clicking sound that he had started to acknowledge by then, followed by the sound of dishes, and that lazy going. Feeling as if though he had been hit by an Iron Giant on the head, Ignis managed to pull himself up on his hands, thrown in his corner of the cell, and having troubles adjusting his sight. Once woken up, he reached for his glasses and put them on, sitting up at the time the three friends of the previous day appeared behind the metal bars.  
“Hi, Ignis!” and like usual, the joyful candelabra was first to greet, as excited as he always seemed to be. “We brought breakfast!”  
“Oh” Ignis could not help the surprise, but also tried not to seem rude and make a comment that he probably should not. He sat up and watched Prompto using the help of Noctis to carry with a tray that had both the dish with food and a glass of water. He wondered how such small objects could manage to carry those things without dropping them, what with jumping and skipping as their usual going. “I…had thought…”

“It was our intentions to bring you at least dinner last night” Iris started explaining while the other two put the tray on the floor. “But…he’s still a bit…angry.”  
“You cut him, you know?” Prompto commented, looking up at the man. “I mean, it wasn’t serious, vaguely a scratch, but it upset him _a lot_.”  
“…I guess he has reasons” Ignis nodded very softly, almost subtly. No wonder the beast hated him; besides having broken into the castle, Ignis _had_ tried to kill it and he remembered to have succesfully gotten a dagger to reach it on the face. Of course this thing was not going to let the furniture be kind with Ignis further once per day. The man, however, expressed none of his thoughts and simply sighed. “…thank you. Again.”  
“No worries, dude; eat” again, the candelabra. 

Ignis had a little bit more trust that the food was not poisoned, but he was suddenly hesitating on whether it would have had been better if it was or not. This time he took more time on eating, and not that he was calmer or less hungry; he was just weaker. More tired than the previous days.  
He ate slowly, as if the longer he took on a bite would make the amount of food bigger in his mouth. The gaze lost, he paid no attention to the furniture, even when the three looked at him the entire time as if Ignis had grown a second head: eyes wide, silent panic, and not knowing what to say or do. Ignis already looked bad the previous day, but now he looked a bit worsened.  
“Dude…” Prompto called softly, to Ignis’ surprise. It was possibly the first time he heard the candelabra’s voice so quiet and sad. “…are you…okay? I mean, it may be stupid to ask, I know you’re not, but…”

“Don’t worry, Prompto” Ignis said as quietly, and he forced a smile to the candelabra, still holding the bread in a hand. “I’m okay.”  
Prompto quieted and only stared down. He had expected maybe some fun conversation with the guy, get to know him better, share some of his jokes with him, but he really did not want to say anything just by glancing at Ignis. Not that the candelabra was disgusted, of course not; he just found Ignis to be feeling worse than the previous day, and it was obvious in his exhausted look. Prompto, at first, thought he could not feel worse for him.  
Until Ignis reached one of his fingers up again and, like the previous day, scratched him very softly on the head.  
“Thank you” at the quiet whisper, Prompto looked up and found Ignis smiling down at him, weakly but with honesty, “for the food. Thanks, you lot.”

Prompto could not tell him anything back. At first, he did not know what to say; he thought that maybe _now_ the guy would hate them and be rude. He had reasons to be rude. He had all reasons to hate them. And yet, all he was doing was to thank them for everything. It only made the guilt build up inside Prompto so strongly that he had to apologize, but before he could do it, the door opened and the beast’s voice hurried the furniture, as if repeating the script of the day before.  
When Prompto looked back at Ignis to apologize and say goodbye, the man had moved his hand towards him again to pat his head carefully.  
“…don’t worry, Prompto” Ignis repeated, this time in a more honest whisper. The candelabra stared down, worried. Ignis put his hand away and Prompto looked up at him with sad, big eyes.  
Ignis, on his part, smiled kindly at his new friend.  
“I’m okay.”

\-----------------

After a week, he had stopped to be okay.

It was a new routine and he could not adapt to it, no matter how much he repeated to himself that it was fine. One meal per day, which consisted in water and a few pieces of bread, and that was all the activity he would experience throughout the hours. The bucket that was there for his most human necessities appeared emptied and washed each day, but he had never seen anyone or anything take care of that, and had not heard the door opening. When he noticed there was someone or something coming into his cell every night to replace the bucket, he had tried to keep an ear up midsleep; maybe, if he hurried enough, he could escape when they would come to open the door.

But despite his constant state of alert and attention, he never heard when they did. It exasperated him, because he did not sleep properly; he would just pass out at night, and, with the panic and fear, he did not get proper sleep but rather some unrestful shut of the eyes. In that state, he expected to wake up at the slightest sound, but apparently his body decided that everything was a reason to wake up startled by panic except someone opening the goddamn door to freedom. 

He had thought he would die converted into a huge crust of frozen mud; he was never given anything to clean himself. The way he was going, he would end up suffocating under his own dirt, he had guessed; however, the night of the fifth day, he woke up in the middle of the darkness to find that someone was rubbing his face and arms with wet cloths. By then, the weakness and tiredness was so great that he could not wake up fully to his senses, and could only stare around, lost. He found more cloths rubbing his skin and cleaning him, and to his surprise, except he really was not surprised at the same time, a couple of the cloths were working on their own, floating themselves, and, as if owning life, they needed of no one to move.

Something had somehow managed to take his boots off, and the cloths were cleaning his feet, the spaces between the fingers included. He found another of those magical clothes floating nearby his face and cleaning it cheekily, not caring that he had been asleep and not caring to have woken him, and rubbed his nose, behind the ears, the forehead, and every pore it could find.  
And when Ignis looked down at his arm, he found the candelabra and the clock were using a cloth to clean it. 

Ignis could not say anything and only looked at them, not understanding their worry, not understanding why they insisted on aiding him even when the beast was most surely forbidding them to. At some point, the clock looked up and found him staring, which caused Noctis to panic a bit and stare away, soon nudging at the candelabra, who stopped in his work and looked at his friend. The clock motioned towards Ignis, and Prompto looked up.  
“Ah, hi, Ignis!” he heard the candelabra whisper. “I thought…I’m sorry to wake you up. I just thought…maybe you’d want…”  
“You stink” Noctis muttered. “So, don’t move. We’re not done yet.”  
“A-ah, Noct! Don’t be rude with him!” Prompto chided him, keeping the voice down. Ignis watched both friends starting to childishly argue, but continuing with their task, carefully holding the man's arm like it was about a fragile puppy.

Ignis could not help a tiny chuckle while staring at them. The cloth on his face suddenly flew away and sank itself in a bucket different than the usual one, and returned, clean and fresher, only to land on his hair.  
He did not know why flying cloths did not surprise him anymore, but he let the moment be as if it was something usual.  
Despite the cool sensation of water against his skin and rolling down his head, Ignis, at some point before he could manage to thank the furniture, had already gone back to sleep. 

The following days went back to normal; his poor breakfast and being abandoned for the rest of the day. In those two days after the midnight interruption, none Prompto or Noctis came to repeat it, so Ignis started getting dirty again. Then again, it had been a blessing to have been somewhat cleaned even if only once; another day like that and he could have died out of mere disgust towards himself. It may not have been the best of baths, but he had been cleaned out of most of the dirt and he had not realized how bad he had been wishing for it until he woke up feeling fresh, clean and a bit more alive. Sensation that only lasted a day, sadly, before falling back in exhaustion, which only worsened the next day. 

That was his new routine. A restless sleep, constant body ache, one sole, poor meal, and a day full of loneliness, boredom and paranoia.

So this is what being a prisoner and hostage of sorts was like, he thought to himself on the seventh day, when the tiredness had grown so bad that the only thing he had been able to do in all 24 hours was to lie on the ground and breathe. 

_Lovely._


	4. Be Our Guest

“Gladio, the guy’s really not doing well.”

“He told his dad he could cope with living there, didn’t he?” a deep voice, slightly raspy as if though finding the conversation rather boring. “It’s not my problem if he lied.”  
“You can’t be upset forever, big brother” the tea pot complained, frowning and following the giant form of the beast through a hallway. “He was rude with you, of course, but what did you expect? You attacked him.”  
“He invaded our home first” the reply was delivered as if they were speaking about weather; a boring, non-important subject. “It’s my duty as Noctis’ shield-”  
“Your duty” the tea pot interrupted with a very firm voice, hurrying to stand in front of the beast; despite being tiny in comparison, he stopped in his way as if though instead of a pot he had almost walked into a wall, “Is to keep your word up and take care of him.”

“Take care of him?” the beast questioned, raising a bit the voice but not sounding as if roaring. He leaned down to get a closer look of the pot at his feet. “What am I? A nanny?”  
“You, Gladiolus Amicitia, are a man of word” Iris replied, and at the word ‘man’ the creature snorted and rolled the eyes, standing up again and continuing to walk, his foot going over the pot to ignore her. “You sent that man to his home with the promise of keeping his son safe; you can’t keep treating him like this.”  
“His only condition was that _I_ wouldn’t harm him” Gladiolus replied, continuing his way upstairs. Iris hopped behind him, not giving up, stubborn. “And _I_ have done nothing to him. Haven’t even seen him.”  
“Well, if you got some guts and dared to look at him, you’d see the harm you _are_ causing him” his little sister’s voice replied in almost a daring voice, and the beast stopped in the last step of the stairs to turn and look at her again. None said anything for a moment, and she, despite knowing how easily he could get fired up, frowned again and spoke nonetheless. “I dare you; go look at him.”

Gladiolus seemed to hesitate for a moment. His eyes looked at the tea pot with hesitation, and after a few moments, he moved a paw up and shook it on the air with disinterest.  
“I don’t wanna” was his vague response.  
“Gladio, he’s in bad conditions” Iris insisted. “It’s been almost two weeks, and he’s been surviving with just little bread and a glass of water in a horrible cell that’s not even meant for a person. At this pace, if we don’t treat him better…” she stopped for a moment and stared down. “…Gladio, you can’t let him die.”  
“What do you want me to do?” Gladiolus questioned her, curiously softening down but not subduing to her pleas. “Give him a room of his own? Let him wander about and talk with everyone and eventually find out that he’s living among the Lucis Caelum and his servants?”  
“He won’t even remember” Iris told him. “The Wizard said nobody in all of Lucis remembers; we’re dead to them. It will do no harm to take him out of that horrible prison cell.”

“Iris, you’re too naïve” Gladiolus stood up again and turned around to continue his way. “The answer is no. He’s staying up there.”  
Iris frowned and pouted. She gave her brother an angered glance and, had she had the possibility, she would have crossed her arms.  
“You’re so mean” Iris stated, but the beast did not stop walking. “He’s such a kindhearted guy; you’re going to regret to have let him die all alone and sad up there.”

Gladiolus did not stop, and did not care.

\----------

The furniture had requested all over those almost-two weeks to Gladio to give “the guy of the tower” a little more care; if he did not want to give him a room, he could at least bring him down to the dungeons. The towers had been meant in very ancient times for sentenced-to-death prisoners, and more recently for beasts only. The conditions were not for a person, and while the dungeon was not a hotel room, it at least would offer him a bed and warmth enough to live properly. Still, the answer had always been a firm No, and nobody could do anything about it.

Noctis, in theory the king, and a superior to Gladiolus since birth, had requested him as well, but had not commanded him. Noctis the king had all the power and right in the universe to order him to set Ignis free if he wished…but Noctis the clock, well, not much. And it was not that Gladiolus had taken advantage of his size, strength and condition compared to that of his prince; it was the beast, the one inside him, what caused all the troubles. With each passing year, Gladiolus lost a little more of his rationality and the beast instincts and impulses took over; those two weeks keeping Ignis in those terrible conditions were not the human Gladiolus being senselessly cruel with him…it was the beast, extremely angered at Ignis, who denied taking proper care of him.

That bestiality that sometimes took over Gladiolus was what had put him in control of the castle, without him wanting or acknowledging it; if he was angered too much, if he was driven into extreme madness, he could blindly hurt the furniture. It had never happened before, but nobody wanted to find out. So even though Noctis had the right to order him around, he also knew he had to be careful; one false step into driving Gladiolus in anger, and there would go the prince and, now in theory, king of Lucis; smashed down by a paw. Literally. It was not that Gladio could not control himself; one could not blame the internal beast for being stronger than a man. If it was up to Gladio, he could be perfectly rational, but if the beast came out he could do very little about it. Hence the fear of the furniture to anger him; hence, their silence and obedience; hence, Gladio’s unrequested power upon them.

So the answer, even towards Noctis the prince, had still been a magnificent No. 

\------------

Two weeks and Ignis had not gotten better, but the opposite. Every time they visited, the furniture would question him and try to see if there was anything they could do to make him feel better.  
“I guess you will deny to me the petition of handing me my daggers” Ignis had once stated and he had not been wrong. It was not that his friends could not; ashamed and embarrassed, they did not _want_ to. If they gave them to Ignis, there could be the possibility that he used them to try to attack Gladio again when he could get the chance. That would turn out bad…for Ignis. It would end up in the guy dead and an angered Gladio destroying a wall or something. Still, they did not share all these thoughts with him, and only denied the petition due to “some reasons we can’t tell you.” Ignis did not seem disappointed; with the little strength he had per day, he smiled and only nodded, already knowing that would be the answer.

For the past few days, all that Ignis had been able to do was sleep. The previous days he would pass out after trying to stay awake the entire night and failing, and even though his body would knock itself out, he did not really get any rest. Now, almost two weeks surviving in that cell, he really had managed to fall asleep at random times, but not because he had earned a little more trust that the beast was not going to appear while he slept; it was that he was literally unable to not rest anymore. He was still scared, but the body’s exhaustion had grown bigger than all the fear, and it had started to force him into falling in deep sleeping like he had not done properly for two weeks.

Prompto had noticed. He, out of natural behavior and a wrong idea he built inside himself, felt personally guilty for the bad time Ignis was dealing with. The candelabra, when not begging for Gladio to release him, had tried to light a bit the mood in Ignis’ cell. He had noticed Ignis’ hunger and had started with midnight deliveries of tiny, pathetic, poor amounts of proper food he stole from the kitchen; he had noticed his loneliness, and sometimes sneaked upstairs to talk with him, sometimes bringing Noctis or Iris with him; he had noticed Ignis getting dirty, so he had started the midnight sneaks in his cell with the help of some people that were turned into cloths and Noctis himself to clean him.  
And now, Prompto had noticed Ignis’ troubles on getting a good, proper sleep.

Once or twice, Prompto had visited late at night and had found Ignis sleeping, but it did not seem like ‘sleeping’ at all; it was more like he had been knocked out and had endless nightmares that made him flinch while unconscious.  
Upset and moved in the heart, drowning in sympathy not only out of guilt but also because this was Prompto’s normal behavior, he wanted to do something to fix that too.

 

“Come on, Noct! Hurry!” the candelabra bounced lightly on himself, standing at the top of a staircase and watching as the clock, way too lazily, climbed step by step, the head down and the eyes closed. He heard Noctis yawn, and saw the clock stopping for a moment. “Noct!”  
“Hm on my way…” the clock sleepily muttered, frowning. He kept climbing the steps one by one, slowly and taking his time, and almost falling asleep on one of them. Having stopped for too long in there, Prompto hurried downstairs to him and patted him on the face until Noctis, with a hiss and a frown, pushed him away. “Okay, I’m going, I’m going…” and yet another yawn.  
“I tell you, he has troubles to sleep; I bet he has nightmares” Prompto whispered to make as little noise as possible; the castle was huge and Gladio’s room was very far from there, but it was precisely because everything was so quiet that the candelabra felt insecure to speak normally. “Maybe he’ll rest better if he’s got buddies with him, right? And a little light, too.”

“Right…” the clock yawned; his friend had already shared all his intentions with him back in their room, and Noctis had agreed wholeheartedly, but this was just Prompto; as if wanting to convince himself a hundred percent, he would share his plans and ideas over and over in the way to the destination.  
“Right” Prompto nodded, and patted the clock on the back to wake him up again. “So we should hurry, right?”  
“Eh” was all that the prince replied, and had no option left but to continue climbing the stairs with the candelabra at his side.

Eventually, both arrived to the cells’ chamber on top of the tower and opened the door. Their source of light was Prompto and his three candles, which he kept lit the whole time as they entered and closed the door behind themselves. Prompto hurried his way across the hallway towards the cell they were looking for, but Noctis took his time; besides his small trouble on one of his legs due to an old injury on his back, he was just partly awake. While Noctis was still walking, Prompto was taking a look at the inside of the cell, watching the man in there.  
“Hurry, Noct!” the candelabra whispered, swinging one of his arms.  
“I’m here, I’m here” Noctis muttered, a bit annoyed. 

When he arrived and looked inside, he saw Ignis curled up in a ball in his usual corner, at the back of the cell. Even though he was sleeping and this time he did not wake up to their voices or noise, Noctis, now that Prompto had commented it to him earlier, noticed that Ignis really did not seem to be resting at all. His breathing, instead of soft and careful, subtly trembled. He had bags the size of the castle under the eyes, dark until almost looking like a pair of bruises. He was pale, compared to how he had arrived. Noctis entirely woke up just watching him, feeling a sudden pinch of guilt inside; he was supposed to be the king of this man. He was supposed to take care of and look after his people, not keep them locked in cages, unable to rest, like this.  
As king, he was partly responsible for this. And he hated to know that.  
“Let’s go, Noct” Prompto whispered to him, and the prince stood there, watching the candelabra move sideways to force his way through a pair of the metal bars.

“I need to open the door” Noctis reminded his friend. “Did you bring the key?”  
“U-uh” Prompto tensed at the question and looked at his friend with slightly bigger eyes. He laughed nervously at him. “I-I…kinda forgot.”  
“Prompto?”  
Before Noctis could have replied, both turned to look at the human when they heard his voice calling for the candelabra. Ignis had half opened one eye and it looked around until spotting Prompto, nearby him. When he did, he shut the eyes only to try and force them open, this time trying to pull himself up onto his hands, but only half-getting it, letting out a trembling breath of effort as he did. Once weakly standing on a hand and having opened his eyes, even though he kept them squinted, he gave Prompto a slight frowned look.  
“Prompto” he repeated in a whisper, more conscious this time. “Is anything the matter?”

“I-I, u-uh…” Prompto hesitated on his words again, nervous. He looked at the human, back at Noctis, then back at Ignis while thinking what to say. “I-I…I-I wanted…i-it’s just…” the candelabra laughed with nerves again. “I-I…I had a horrible dream a-and…I thought that maybe if I came here…”  
“Did you?” Ignis whispered, unable to speak any louder. “Understood. I do, however, will ask you to turn off your candles before, if you will.”  
“B-before what?” Prompto asked in a whisper, and at the same time he did, he watched Ignis move away his cape, which was hiding his arms, to reveal them. Inviting Prompto in them. “H-huh?”  
“Come on” Ignis gave him a very weak smile, keeping the cape away. “Nightmares must be giving you troubles to sleep.”

Prompto had gone there with the idea to keep the lights of his candles on during the night to see if that could help Ignis rest with calm, but the man was thinking of _Prompto_ , not himself, and misunderstood as Prompto wanting some cuddles. The offer took Prompto off guard; he looked back at Noctis for a moment, needing advice. The clock gave his friend a lost glance that clearly told him he had no idea what to do; if Prompto had to ask advice on how to treat with people successfully and not go awkward in the way, the very last person to ask was Noctis.  
Hesitating at first, Prompto turned off his three candles and shyly hopped his way towards the human. He stopped when he was nearby, but hopped once more into the arm that Ignis kept folded against the floor and, still shy, the candelabra sat down against him, staring down. Ignis, once his friend had nested in the space between his chest and the fold of his arm, brought the cape down again, so that it would cover both of them for warmth. The gentle way in which he did it made Prompto flinch at first, and he looked up at Ignis, but the man had turned his attention to the clock, still standing outside the cell.

“Did you have a bad dream too, Noctis?” Ignis asked quietly, staying down on the floor with the candelabra in his arms. The clock opened the eyes widely at the question and then stared away, flustered; of course not, like Prompto had not, but they needed of the excuse. They could not just tell him they had come to help _him_ rest, so he was left with no option.  
“E-eh…I-I…guess, I mean…sort of…I think” the clock said while toying with one of his needles, staring away.  
“Then come on in” Ignis requested softly.  
“I-I…can’t” Noctis said awkwardly, still not daring to look at the man; the green eyes were suffering, they were filled of sadness, they were bright with loneliness, but they looked at him with all the kindness in the world, and it made Noctis uncomfortable…someone with such a big heart did not have to be down on the floor, unable to stand up, dying in the dirt like a worm. It made him feel guilty. “I don’t…fit through the bars…so I’ll just…go back to my room, it’s fine.”

Ignis’ smile had faded by now. He was still half-standing his weight on an elbow, the arm trembling out of having to stand some weight, and he kept the tired eyes on Noctis. Ignis took some moments, and then looked down at Prompto, opening the cape again.  
“Could you please…just for a second?” the human asked kindly, and Prompto, not understanding the reason, simply hopped off from his spot.  
Ignis tried to stand up.  
Prompto looked at him worriedly and had to swallow the need of asking him not to do it, but it did not look like they could convince Ignis otherwise. The man had kept a groan in the throat at the time he had pushed himself up again onto his hands and knees, struggling on his way up. His arms trembled, standing the weight, but did not go down to the floor. 

After a few seconds, he started crawling towards the bars of his cell, trembling. He was not slow as if though he was agonizing, but it really was taking him some effort; the terrible alimentation and lack of physical activity had turned his muscles into cotton, barely keeping him in place every time he tried to move. Prompto and Noctis watched him in total surprise as the man crawled towards there, and, once nearby the bars, he slowly let himself fall down again. At first the candelabra had swallowed his breath in a gasp, thinking that maybe Ignis was passing out, but he found he was doing it rationally. Ignis dropped himself on the floor again, careful so he would not hit himself on the hard ground, letting out a tired sigh. Once there, he looked up at Noctis again.  
He stretched a hand to the clock, sneaking two fingers through a pair of bars, and kindly offered them to him. 

Noctis looked at the fingers in front of him, not understanding. He looked back up at Ignis, questioning him. The human, by all answer, smiled weakly and closed the eyes, trying not to fall asleep again yet.  
“…it’s…the only way I can think about…to keep you company” Ignis told him quietly. Prompto turned to look at his best friend. The clock, awkward and shy, moved one of his hands up and gripped Ignis’ fingers. “Apologies, Noct.”  
“Eh” the clock muttered, frowning and suddenly unable to look at the human. Noctis moved closer to the bars and rested his back there, sitting down and not letting go of Ignis’ fingers. “Whatever. This will do.”  
“I’m glad” Ignis said with a tiny smile, and then opened the eyes again to look for Prompto in the darkness. He, once again, opened the other arm to him. “I’m sorry for moving, Prompto. Noct needed a hand, too.”

The candelabra looked at him as if though the human had died right in front of him. Overwhelmed, Prompto sniffled and hopped closer to him, sitting down in front of him and burying the face in Ignis’ chest. The human did not mind.  
Once with a hand holding Noctis’ through the bars, and Prompto snuggled to his chest, Ignis put the arm down to cover himself and the candelabra with the cape, and closed the eyes again.  
Despite how moving it had been for the furniture pieces, Ignis still did not sleep well.

\------------

“ _Gladio!_ ”  
The shield of the king flinched at the unexpected loud opening of the doors of the library and the scream, and turned around to see what was happening. Coming through the door, Prompto hopped his way desperately towards him; Noctis laid on the floor as if though he had thrown himself to the doors to open them.  
“Gladio!” the candelabra screamed loudly into a mess of dramatic sobbing. “Gladio, don’t let him die!”  
“Wha-?”  
“Gladio, he’s so sweet and kind!” Prompto yelled at him not stopping in his way. The beast tried to question him, but Prompto kept yelling while hopping towards him. “He should be smashing us around and hating us and screaming at us and hitting us, but he’s doing the total opposite and I _can’t stand it_!”  
“Now what, Prompto?” Gladio questioned at the same time the candelabra, now in front of him, threw himself to his foot and hugged it tightly.

“Gladio, I _beg_ you!” Prompto cried loudly to him, and his drama had attracted more furniture into the room to see what was happening. “I’ll do anything, _anything_ that you want, but give him his own room!”  
“Wha-!?”  
“He’s the kindest dude I’ve ever known in all of my life!” Prompto cried to him. “He treats us so kindly and we’re killing him in return, and it’s killing me!” the candelabra, while whimpering pathetically, buried his face in the fur of Gladio’s leg. “Gladio, I’ll let you use me as a dart just for fun, I’ll let you use me to clean the bathroom, I’ll wash your clothes by hand myself for a year, but give him his own room, please!”  
“I’m with Prompto!”  
“Iris!?”

The tea pot made her way up to a table nearby Gladio, and hopped onto some books to be much closer to his face.  
“It’s not fair. Despite the state we’ve put him in, he still thanks us every morning even when he knows it’s just bread, and he’s so kind and sweet with all of us” Iris told him, and Gladio’s attention, after having heard her, returned to Prompto, who tried to climb up his leg.  
“Dude, the guy is so cool” Prompto told him but it still sounded like an overdramatic cry. “You’d like him if you gave him the chance, but you can’t give him any if he dies!”  
“He’s so polite, I trust wholeheartedly that he’ll behave and be a good guest” Iris nodded, and as she spoke, Prompto managed his way to Gladio’s shirt and hopped onto the table.  
“You should have seen last night, Astrals, I-“ Prompto buried his face in the candles that were his hands, and he cried into them still with a bit of an overreaction. “He was so sweet, holy Titan, you can’t do this to him!”

“I agree with them.”  
Gladio turned and found Noctis making his way towards him as well. The prince did not seem to hurry like the candelabra had done, but he was not looking lazy either. His sworn shield looked down at him and reached down to take him carefully with a hand. He lifted Noctis from the floor and put him on the table besides Prompto.  
“You three have talked too much with him” Gladio told them with a slight frown. “I’ll start to believe you’re plotting with him behind my back.”  
“We’re not plotting!” Iris said firmly. “We’re not trying to let him escape, or planning an attack over you, sweet Astrals…we just want Ignis to not die in there!”

“We don’t ask you that you give him Noct’s clothes and a banquet every night and the King’s chamber” Prompto told him still in desperation but trying to keep the voice firm and slow enough to be understood. “Just let him free from the cell, that’s all, dude, _please_.”  
“It’s not like the world will explode if you let him live a little, Big Guy” Noctis added and, to the surprise of the three, Gladio only gave them a careful and thoughtful look. His eyes went from Iris to Prompto, and from him to Noctis, back to the candelabra, and ended up in his sister again.  
“Please?” Iris asked him and smiled at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes as big as she could open them.  
“Pretty please?” Prompto questioned and went down as if on his knees, putting his candle-hands together and staring up at the beast with pleading eyes. Noctis broke the sequence and only stared away with an ‘Eh’. 

Gladio looked at them. Moments in silence passed by, and then he suddenly shrugged the nose. His chest swelled up and he let out a quiet sigh. He closed the eyes and caressed his head with two of his fingers, muttering something under the breath. When he let go of his head, he glared at the three friends and put a finger up to point at them.  
“There will be _three_ locks on the gates of the outside wall” as soon as he started listing, the three friends moved up in their places, feeling hope quickly building up inside them, Iris’ and Prompto’s faces lighting up. Noctis tried to seem less excited, but he still grinned and looked at his friend with gratefulness. “Guards. Two guards at each of the four walls” the three friends nodded, eagerly. “Two guards at the doors of the castle; he can’t exit to the gardens, he won’t go through the main doors or any backdoor; he can wander around in the castle but never outside of it.”

Prompto went back up on his base (as if up on his feet) and his three candles fired up at the time he eagerly nodded.  
“All the windows will be locked, and any door that leads to the outside” Gladiolus kept listing. “And there’ll always be someone watching him, a Kingsglaive or someone that’s not you three. I mean, hang with him if you please, but there’ll be a chaperon too. Did you understand?”  
“Geez, a bit rude, Big Guy” Prompto commented and Iris had to resist the urge of throwing herself from the top of the books down to smash the guy to the table. However, Prompto soon fixed it himself, “But yes, yes, we understand; locked in here, not let him outside, understood!”  
“And we’ll give him a room, right, Gladdy?” Iris commented more as a statement rather than as a question, attempting her cutest stare and blinking up to her brother. 

Gladio looked at her some moments, watched her big eyes on him. He closed the eyes and sighed in defeat, moving a hand up to use the tip of his claw to scratch the top of the tea pot.  
“…I’m not doing this for him, did you hear?” he said with the eyes on her. Once said that, both Iris and Prompto let out a cheer and jumped in their place, and Noctis, though awkwardly, joined. “The things I do for you all.”  
“Let’s go! You’ll be happy for this decision, Gladdy” Iris commented to him at the time Gladio took her and placed her on his shoulder and turned around. Only for the sake of messing in a friendly way with the other two, he did not carry them, which forced the clock and the candelabra to hurry behind him as he started going away. “You’ll like him, you’ll see.”  
“Yeah, dude” Prompto agreed behind him while following closely. “He’s like the kindest dude out there.”  
“Eh, he’s not bad” Noctis commented, trying to hurry his way behind Gladio. The shield usually left him behind just for fun but, knowing the effort Noctis took to catch up, he always ended up carrying him at some point, when the fun was over.

Gladio was not in the best of the moods, but at least he was not as angered as the first day. Back then, he kept growling and snorting to everything, the non-animated things as well, crawling in circles. The beast had come out more than usual during the first days; it was not only to have had intruders sneak in, but also the cut Ignis managed to mark on his cheek. Like Prompto said, it had been but a scratch, but, in the reaction of any beast, it had angered him. Now that the days had gone and the animal instincts had lowered, Gladiolus’ human mind was much clearer to really realize that what he was keeping in a prison cell was not a simple squirrel or wild cat; it was a human. It was a man. And a man that had stayed under a promise.

Gladio, by when he was going upstairs, was already carrying the three friends and he was being showered endlessly with good comments regarding the man that was hostage in the castle. By when he reached half of the spiral staircase he was already tired of listening to them; god, were they kids. He, however, did not get upset in any moment. Once reaching the top, he opened the door and was welcomed by great silence. He found that to be slightly unexpected, but made his way inside nonetheless. Despite having big feet with sharp claws, his going was relatively quiet. Soon enough, he stopped in front of the cell where the man rested.  
When he spotted him, Gladiolus’ chest raised and he contained the breath for a moment.

The furniture which were climbing off him had seen him daily, even if only for a couple of minutes, but Gladiolus had not seen him since the first night. Hence, the contrast he found had a much greater impact than it could have on the animated objects; it was like he was watching an entirely different man.  
There was a noticeable and messed beard invading his cheeks, but not covering them whole just yet, and his chin. For two weeks, the guy grew the beard much slower than Gladiolus remembered his used to do, but he also understood, seen as the guy did not seem to be the hairy type. His facial hair was not much, but it had grown quite noticeably…and did not fit him much. At least not this way, messed and dirty, which made him look much older than he really was and much more haggard.  
There were heavy and big bags under his eyes, so dark that at first Gladiolus thought the man had somehow managed to paint them, but they were real. His hair was all undone and messed up, like morning hair except a thousand times worse. And his clothes, dear Astrals; it was like he had fallen in a puddle of mud just five minutes ago. He had arrived with a white shirt, Gladio remembered, not understanding how it could become a firm grey and black color. And the pants and the cape, it was all extremely dirty. Like his face. Like his pretty face. 

Gladio looked at him and immediately felt the guilt building up inside him. Besides looking in terrible conditions, the man in the cell looked entirely _miserable_ ; thrown in a corner of the square that had become his room, in a troubled sleep that made his hands twitch at times. It was a bit past midday; if the guy had woken up in the morning and later decided to take a nap or if he had yet not woken up since the previous night, Gladio didn’t know. Whichever it could be, he found that both situations made him feel bad. He looked at his sides as if thinking people were watching him and judging him as a monster. None of the furniture said or did anything and only watched Gladiolus go down to his ankles, getting a closer look of the man.  
_I can cope with the conditions of this cell_ , he had told the older man when he chose to stay in his place. 

And there he was. Coping with it. Miserably, but coping with it.  
Gladiolus sighed and stared down. He stayed quiet some moments and closed the eyes: he once had had a father as well. He had loved him too, strongly. He knew what it was to have a father, what it was to love him. He knew how it felt to acknowledge that his father would not last forever; the exasperating sensation of wanting to give up some of his youth and gift it to his father so he would not grow old so soon. He remembered perfectly fine what it was like to have the need of protecting his father against the world. And failing.  
With a louder sigh and once done with his thoughts, Gladiolus stood up again. He looked at the man for a few more moments and then decided to do it.  
“You” Gladio called, and, in contrast to the first day, it was not a roar but the voice of an average man. Deeper, maybe, but an average man nonetheless. “Hey. Wake up.”

Ignis’ body reacted with a tiny and subtle flinch. His eyes opened heavily but quickly.  
“Human” Gladio called, staring at him with a slight frown upon the face. “Wake up. Hurry.”  
Ignis still took a second or two before fully opening the eyes. When he did and his sight found a pair of hairy, animal legs outside his cell, he swallowed a gasp and he moved up on his hands, raising the head. He stayed still some moments, off guard by being woken up, and moved a bit more to stand the weight a bit better on a forearm. He looked at the beast, expecting, and Gladiolus stared back, none saying a word for some moments. Gladio, finding that the man did not look away, involuntarily growled very lowly and looked away.  
“Get up” Gladio commanded and reached for the inside of a pocket of his pants. “…I’ll show you to your room.”

He looked again at the human when he heard no reaction. He kept the eyes on him and Ignis only stared back. After a few moments, the man let out a trembling sigh and his expression molded into a proud frown.  
“It was about time” Ignis said, not moving from his spot. “The tower smells like wet dog.”  
Gladio kept the eyes on him and his eyes widened; this had not been precisely the reaction he had expected.  
“…do you come here often?” Ignis asked as if casually, looking back up at him.  
At the comment, Gladio’s frown grew and deformed his face even more, and he snorted loudly. This was _not_ the reaction he had expected. He turned roughly to look at the furniture friends as if demanding an explanation, and the three just gave him nervous smiles; Ignis could not have chosen a worse moment to be rude. 

Gladiolus, trying to hold onto the thought that this man was under his care, trying to hold onto the sympathy he had felt a minute ago, closed the eyes for a second and breathed. He decided to save his own comments and brought the key to the door. He switched the lock and opened the cell. He waited outside but Ignis did not move. Gladio, impatient, grew angry at the only fact that Ignis stayed thrown on the floor, only watching him.  
“Well?” Gladio hurried with very little patience. Ignis still did not move. “So!?”  
“…are you serious?” Ignis questioned in a different voice than the rude one he had used for the first comments. It was as if though he had fallen in the realization of something he did not expect, and noticed he probably had messed up. Which, in reality, was what happened.

When Ignis saw the beast outside his cell, it hit him quickly in the head: this was the day he died. He had not even stopped to think in other possibilities, and only kept the first one that hit him: the beast had finally decided to kill him and was standing there to do it; he had not visited in the previous two weeks, why else would he do it now? So, when the beast opened the door, Ignis did not even make the effort of trying to stand up; the beast was going to come in sooner or later to use its claws and chop his head off or cut his ribs open, so why bother on moving anymore?  
That was why he had felt free to deliver the first commentaries: if he was about to die, he would do it proudly and uptight. No way would he beg for compassion or mercy to the beast; even if he could not fight back, he at least would not give him the pleasure of watching Ignis beg or cry. Hence, Ignis, angered, simply let the rude comments out, thinking he had nothing to lose if he was about to die anyway, never once thinking that it could be really happening until he realized the beast had no intention of coming into his cell.

After a few moments, the beast snorted loudly again.  
“Do you want to stay in the tower!?” he questioned in a roar. Ignis blinked a couple of times and, with a groan of effort, he pushed himself up until he sat up on the floor.  
“Most certainly not” he answered and stretched one of his hands to reach for his glasses. He took them and put them on, and he came up to his feet. He stumbled a bit and tried to dissimulate. “It’s not the loveliest of rooms, I dare to believe. I _hope_ so, at least.”

While Ignis hesitatingly got closer to the door, and right after his last comment, Gladio furiously turned to look at the furniture and gave them wide eyes, snorting loudly; _I thought you said he was kindest person in the world!?_ his glance screamed wordlessly. The three friends, however, could only shrug at him and offer apologetic smiles, hoping from deep in their hearts that Ignis would realize soon that he had to behave towards him like he did towards them.  
After a few moments, Ignis exited the cell and stopped there, looking up at Gladio. The height difference was…past obvious; Ignis, a tall man on his own, reached only to half of the beast’s chest. He had to keep the head back to get a look of his face, and Gladiolus had to stare down. Both shared a glare.  
“…well, I see you are not attempting to murder me” Ignis delivered after a few moments of silence. “And while I do am grateful for that, I’m afraid I don’t know where we’re heading, so I’ll have to follow behind. Don’t worry; I won’t try to assassin you either.”  
Gladio snorted at him again, giving him slightly widened eyes. Ignis, however, did not move or flinched. He only blinked, but kept the eyes on those of the beast. 

Gladio, trying to contain his anger, only muttered a ‘Very well’ before turning around. When he leaned down, Ignis followed his actions and found his three friends in there; he had not seen them until now that the beast was picking them up and putting them on him, the tea pot on a hand, the clock on a shoulder, and the candelabra on the other. Ignis found himself a bit startled at that: he had thought throughout the days that the beast treated the furniture like an evil master that mistreated them, but he was actually being…kind, helping them with the long distances and stairs, uncomfortable to go for the furniture when they were on their own. Ignis stayed frozen at the unexpected realization, until the beast, at the door, looked over his shoulder and frowned at him.  
“Hurry” a single order.

Ignis blinked and tried not to show his surprise and only followed him. He remembered, when he was by the door, about his daggers; one was meant to be nearby. However, when he looked around, he did not spot it anywhere. He tried not to panic and, in a very strange sensation of half-freedom of sorts, he went after the beast in silence. The first steps of the spiral staircase went fine, but by the middle he slowed down and put a hand to the wall, leaning onto it and taking a break; his legs had not done anything in days, and had come to be very weak. Walking already put them to tremble, so walking downstairs was giving him much more troubles; he felt as if though somebody had replaced his legs with a pair of thin branches.

After a few moments of rest in there, he heard the beast growling and muttering, but as the space was closed and small, and he could hear just fine.  
“What now, small human? Hurry” the beast growled and returned a few steps, only enough to look at Ignis. He hesitated for a few moments, and saw Iris looking up at him and getting close as if for confidence.  
“Gladio, be patient; his body’s weak right now” she said lowly, but Ignis still managed to hear. The comment made him stare down and away, feeling somewhat humiliated; that was the least he wanted the beast to be aware of, but it was not like he could hide it even if he tried. Still, having heard it said aloud made him feel in defeat. However, instead of making fun of him, the beast muttered a moody ‘Okay’ and waited in that step.

Ignis had no option but to continue down; at first he tried to go normally again, if only just a bit more carefully, but he stumbled and almost fell. The beast helped and put a paw up, making sure the claws were not in the way, and Ignis managed to hold onto it after stumbling. He swallowed and stared at his hand in Gladiolus’ paw; realizing and noticing the size differences, Ignis grew very nervous again like it was the first time he saw the beast.  
“You okay, Ignis?” he heard Prompto’s voice asking, and he looked up to find the candelabra holding onto the shirt the beast was wearing, looking from above Gladio’s shoulder at him, with worry. Ignis looked back at him and swallowed again, before he, trembling, took his hand away of the paw.  
“I’m…fine” he sighed and stared down. “Let’s go.”

Gladio only growled quietly and went down a couple steps before stopping and turning around again. Ignis looked at him with nerves, and went down, trying to hurry; the beast was not acting like an animal and he had helped him when he stumbled, but Ignis had come to fear again, and he thought that if he did not hurry, maybe, the beast would go angry again and lose the patience that it was demonstrating to have, and really murder him. Ignis had thought he could face his death proudly, he had thought he could face the beast just fine, but only now that he was this close to him he realized how big he was and how sharp the claws seemed to be. 

They spent quite a while making their way downstairs, only to go through a hallway, into another, and again downstairs. Gladiolus was not picking randomly; just the past hour he had chosen the room that he would offer to Ignis. At first the guys had offered many options (Prompto suggested the biggest one, Noctis the one with the most comfortable bed, and Iris suggested the warmest), but Gladio picked a different one, on the sixth floor. When he was asked for reasons, Gladio said that, six floors up, the guy would not escape through the window; that same room did not have any talking furniture; it had its own bathroom so the guy would have less excuses to exit; it also was far from Gladio’s room, so the guy would not bother him. Listening to the reasons, Iris rolled the eyes and Noctis commented that maybe Gladio was acting a bit too paranoid.

“The guy is not a random town boy” had been Gladio’s response. “He’s smart; he has the slyest and most intelligent stare I’ve ever seen. He has the eyes of a strategist. If we give him the smallest chance, the guy will be back to his town before we even notice he’s not in his room.”

Gladio had to stop and wait for Ignis every time it was about a staircase; he would keep the frown on the face and snort softly at times, and Ignis would just frown, ignore him and pretend everything was fine, and sometimes asked him ‘What is it, have you come to be tired already?’ when he saw the beast stop in his way. Gladiolus fought with all his might against himself not to snap something out at the guy, but every time Ignis gave him that judging stare and delivered his sarcastic commentaries Gladio lost a bit more of his patience. Had he taken him a longer way, Gladio would have ended up smashing the guy’s face to the ground. Thankfully for both, they managed to arrive to what would be Ignis’ room before that.

During the travel from the tower to the other side of the castle and a few floors downstairs, Ignis had managed to get a much better look of the beast to what he had managed to gather so far, and analyzed him a bit: the first to catch Ignis’ attention was the fact that it… _he_ was wearing clothes. It was not a royal attire he would expect from the master of a castle, but it was not a random potato bag wrapped around the waist either. He wore pants and a shirt his size, and that was it. He was properly dressed; nothing flamboyant, but not like a commoner either. He, however, wore no shoes; even if he tried, Ignis guessed, there would not be shoes his size or shape.

Speaking of shape, Ignis managed to analyze the beast’s form; at first he had tried to identify a specific species, but he only found a chimera: the head was that of a buffalo or bison, but he could stand on two legs, which, on their own, looked like belonging to a wolf, like the long tail that came from his pants. The body also reminded him of a bear, like the arms. The hands could be those of a bear as well, except much more humanized; he had the fingers of a man, but also paws, claws and fur. Sometimes, when they had to go either down or upstairs, and as Ignis took a little more time, the beast turned around and Ignis could see his face; the head was surrounded by what could have passed as long hair, or a lion’s mane, specially long on a line as if it was about a Mohican style combed backwards; the fangs of the lower gums pointed upwards and showed through his lips, like those of a boar.

The beast also had a scar on the left eye that went from his forehead down to…what could be the equivalent of his cheek. Ignis already knew that that could not be the one cut he managed to mark on the beast, so he wondered what could have happened to him to earn that scar. Perhaps he had wild battles with other animals. As the way to his room was mostly quiet, Ignis had time to spend it in his thoughts and came to realize that maybe the scar could come from whatever had happened five years ago in the castle. He remembered that he beast had told him that the last people to go there had broken a promise, which happened five years prior to the visit of the Scientia; maybe, Ignis thought, the scar had some connection with that event, and that was why Gladiolus seemed to get so fired up at the idea of new visitors. 

For a moment Ignis felt bad for him, but then remembered that he should not connect with sympathy with the beast; he had thrown Ignis to a cell with nothing but a goddamn bucket and vaguely gave him a piece of bread per day. Ignis understood that the beast could have reasons to not trust, but there was a big difference between being cautious and just be senselessly cruel. If he had not arrived in time, he realized, the same treatment he had received would have gone to his father. Ignis had lasted two weeks because he was young and healthy; his dad would not have lasted three days. And the beast would not have cared. 

Ignis swallowed his anger but could not drown out the pride. Still, he stayed quiet and tried not to say anything, and they were soon stopping in front of a double-door, but nothing magnificent or big. Ignis stood in front of the beast in silence but used all his strength in not lowering the head; if he did, the beast could take that as a sign of submission, which was the least Ignis would or wanted to show to him. After a few seconds, Gladiolus opened the doors and gestured for Ignis to walk in first; no option left, he did.  
He stopped for a moment to frown slightly and look around: he had expected the ‘room’ to be a dungeon or maybe even the torture chamber he told his dad not to worry about, but it…was a room. A bedroom with nothing spooky or strange to it, not even bars at the window. There was a big queen-sized bed that looked terribly comfortable, maybe if only a bit too tall. There was a big wardrobe, two bedside tables, drawers, decoration. The only thing ‘off’ was that most of the things were covered in dust and there were many spider webs, but that was it. No chains; no bars; no lashes. 

He moved when he heard and felt the beast coming in after him, turning not to give his back to Gladiolus, and looking at him, still puzzled. He gave the beast a questioning gaze, but did not manage to keep the eyes on the other’s for too long.  
“This is your room” the beast half-growled at him, giving him an unfriendly stare, but behaving nonetheless. “Listen to the conditions, will you?” Ignis stopped staring around and tried to fix his gaze on the beast’s, waiting. Gladio sighed subtly, prepared, and started to list, frowning at the guy. “You’re free to wander in the castle, but _never_ outside” he raised his voice at the second part of the first condition to put emphasis on it. “You can sleep here and use the room and bathroom as you please; you can go downstairs to eat, but you’ll only have _two_ meals per day as a limit” the beast growled and Ignis raised the eyebrows, staring slightly away for a moment; twice what he expected to get, how generous. “You can talk with the people of the castle, but don’t question them more than they’re willing to say, did you understand?”

Ignis tried not to make a sarcastic comment and question him if they had the secret of immortality or something like that; what could be wrong with speaking with those ‘others’ that Prompto had told him about?  
“You…” Gladiolus tried to keep listing, but he seemed to be forgetting something. That, or he had just not expected to not have more things to say. He took a few moments before talking again. “And don’t bother me. I want to see you as little as possible, did you hear?”  
“My sight is a little defective, but my ears are perfectly fine” Ignis replied, staring away and keeping the chin and serious expression up. “It is not in my intentions to visit you often, either.”  
“Great” Gladiolus growled at him, lowly. “And one last thing” Ignis looked back at him but did not show any less uptightness. The beast moved a finger up to point at him with a claw, frowning: “you _cannot_ go to the West Wing.”  
Ignis only stared at him offering no reaction. Both glared at each other for some seconds in total silence.  
“Did you hear?” Gladiolus growled again.  
“I already told you: my ears work with no major problems” Ignis said with a small half-nod. The beast’s upper lip twitched and a growl echoed in his throat, but the man did not look away. “Not the West Wing.”

“Fine” Gladiolus muttered, still deep into the glare fight he was holding with the man, none willing to be the first to stare away. They spent some moments in their quiet war for dominance, until Gladiolus, trying to control his anger, snapped the head away and went back to the door. “I hope you die or go mute sometimes soon, small human.”  
“I can almost assure you I will die first” Ignis replied while watching the beast stop at the doorframe for a moment. “With all the fur you drop, I’m afraid it won’t take long before I suffocate by accidentally swallowing a hair, ‘ _big beast_ ’” Ignis stepped further in the room and looked back at the beast. “Are those our friendship titles from now on?”

Gladiolus roared at him and slammed the door closed.  
The furniture friends had long climbed off his back and were looking up at him. The beast looked down at them with big eyes and a frown, and snorted loudly at them.  
“Kindest man of Eos, eh?” Gladio muttered and, with heavy steps, he started walking away.  
Iris sighed and rolled the eyes, and Noctis crossed his little arms, eyes closed. Prompto tried to keep the mood up and reminded them that it had been a triumph and, finally, Ignis had much more freedom and would not die. Soon enough, the friends decided to visit and pushed the doors open; walking in, they found Ignis already sat at the bed, he head down and a hand on it. He, however, looked up when he heard the door closing, and he softly smiled at the furniture as they approached him.

He did not greet them, but waited patiently as the three got closer; Iris climbed up to a drawer and Prompto and Noctis climbed up the sheets of the bed until being at his sides.  
“Dude, you’re a bit rude with Gladio, don’t you think?” Prompto said while looking up at the man. Ignis sighed and did not look at him.  
“I would be rude if I threw him in a cage and fed him with a glass of water per day” was the answer Ignis offered.  
“See, he gave you a room” Iris commented with a smile. “He’s not so bad. You’re…free, to a certain point. Isn’t that great?”  
“Of course it is” Ignis replied with a weak but honest smile, still not looking at any of them. “And I am assuming these are the consequences of a hard work from the three of you, am I wrong?”  
“Well…” Noctis stared slightly down with shyness, quiet for a few moments. “We…couldn’t leave you up there like that…”

“I do not quite grasp yet why you three are behaving so kindly with me” Ignis admitted in a lower tone of speaking. “But I do am grateful. I believe I may have lasted another week before I would have come to be but a corpse, so…thanks.”  
“Don’t say that, Ignis” Iris said with some sadness. “See, you’re going to do much better. The castle offers everything so you can cover all your necessities, and you won’t struggle anymore.”  
Ignis had a great quantity of sarcastic comments he wanted to deliver, many things to complain to, but he also was conscious enough to know the furniture were not to blame for the faults in the situation. Because Ignis found some, or thought there were some; despite how great his freedom sounded, he still found many repressing and negative things, so he did not celebrate as happily as the furniture did. But he did not want to ruin their positivity; he said nothing and decided, for once in his life, to be grateful for what he did get: having learned the bad way, he appreciated his new situation as if though he had been given a big bag of gold. Not what he needed, but more to what he ever thought he would get.

“You should go eat something, Ignis” Noctis suggested and the man looked down at him. “I’ll go ask them to serve something and-”  
“Apologies, Noctis” Ignis interrupted him gently. “But, while I do wish to attend the table, I’m afraid I will wait some more” he sighed and took his glasses off. “I believe it’s wiser to reserve my second meal for dinner; besides, despite my hunger, I do believe I first want to visit the bathroom” said that, he turned at his other side to look down at Prompto. “Do you know if the water system works? I would be grateful if I could take a bath.”  
“It works!” Prompto said joyfully. “Come on, I’ll help you understand the bath! Let’s go, Noct!”  
“Nah, man; you go” the clock sighed and started climbing off the bed. “I’ll go get him some clothes.”  
“Oh, right” the candelabra nodded. “It won’t do much to take a bath but put back on his old clothes.”

“I’ll go ask the wardrobe next door for a couple towels” Iris said and joyfully hopped off the drawer step by step until reaching the floor. “And I’ll ask some of the dusters to help me clean this room; he can’t live among dust and spiders.”  
“Right…” Noctis sighed lazily. “I’ll ask a broom for some help, too.”  
“This is unexpected” Ignis could not help the comment, smiling with joy but still some confusion at the three furniture pieces. The three stopped whatever they were doing and turned to look up at him. Ignis scratched behind his ear for a moment, suddenly a bit shy. “I…while I have been grateful for your kindness with me, this is a little…unexpected. I am meant to be a prisoner, but the treatment you’re offering is…different to that of a hostage.”

“You’re not a prisoner” Prompto commented. “You’re our guest!”  
“That would not be precisely the word I would use either” Ignis said with an amused smile. “A guest- against my own will and forced to never go out?”  
“Oh, come on, if you put it like that you make it sound like a kidnapping” Prompto said and started climbing off the bed as well. “Stop complaining and just let us spoil you; be our guest!”  
“I am not complaining, Prompto” Ignis said with a very slight hint of sarcasm apparently none of the furniture friends caught. “Will you help me decipher the bathroom?”  
“It’s easy, you’ll see” the candelabra said happily and started hopping his way to the door that led to said place. Ignis, with a slight groan after stretching, followed him. He really did not need help to understand how a bath worked, but Prompto seemed very excited about it, so he just let him be and do as he pleased.

Ignis took far too long in the bathroom. At first Iris and Noctis wondered what the guy could be doing in there, not understanding how he could be taking so long.  
When an entirely different man came from the bathroom hours later, the skin two shades lighter, the hair combed and not dust-grey but bright brown, shaved, smelling like roses, and wearing a casual suit, the furniture friends wondered how it was that Ignis did not actually take _longer_ in there. 

\--------------

Ignis had quietly gone downstairs once to see if he could get something from the kitchen, but he found Gladiolus to be sat at the table of the dining room. Ignis watched from the distance, quiet behind the doorframe; he could not go past him to the kitchen without being noticed, so he hesitated. He spied for a moment to see what the beast could be eating; he expected to find a human corpse on his dish, maybe the raw head of a wolf, a dog or something like that.  
Turned out to be that the beast liked salads and a cooked piece of steak.

He could not see much except for the wild way in which the beast ate. Naturally, Ignis thought. Using hands full and vaguely chewing before already bringing more to his mouth, no fork, the snout first…it was a mess. Ignis, as perfectionist and clean as he was, had to stare away; this was brute and disgusting. When he tried to look again, he rushed to hide behind the wall when he noticed the beast was about to look up. When he was pressed to the wall in silence, he was certain that the beast had seen him; for a moment, Ignis thought Gladiolus would get up and smash him to the ground for ‘how dare you interrupt my dinner’ or something, but, after a few moments of silence, he only heard a little growl and the grotesque chewing continued.

Ignis stayed away in total silence in another room, hiding behind the slightly opened door so that he could see when the beast exited the room and left the dining room, went across the hall, upstairs and disappeared. Ignis still waited some moments until he could not hear his steps, and quietly exited as soon as he heard a door closing somewhere by the beast’s position. He went out on his tiptoes, looking at the place where Gladiolus had last been at, and did not takes his sight off there as he quietly made his way to the dining room.  
When he entered, the furniture turned to look at him.  
“Ignis!” Prompto said with surprise but joy nonetheless, looking around at the others in the room; Ignis felt a bit embarrassed by discovering they were not expecting him. “What are you…”  
“What _else_ could he be doing in the dining room, Prompto?” Noctis asked, dropping a fork he was carrying and rolling the eyes. “He’s surely looking for the bathroom, you know.”

“I…actually had the hope that I could get something for dinner” Ignis interrupted the argue between the two friends before Prompto could hit a comeback to the clock. “If…I may, of course.”  
“Oh!” the candelabra let out still a bit off guard, not expecting this, but soon turned around. “You heard him, guys! Time to go back to work!”  
“I hope I am not a bother, you lot” Ignis commented. “I could help if you-”  
“Which part of ‘guest’ do you not understand, Ignis?” Prompto yelped while hopping off the table, dropping behind a cloth he had been carrying (apparently to clean something). He went close to Ignis and pushed him by the legs, and even though the pressure was not enough to move him, the man understood the motion and stepped forwards. “It’s not a bother, buddy! You sit down, and relax, and enjoy of dinner, okay?”

“O-of course…” Ignis agreed, standing in front of the table and seeing as Prompto, aided by another candelabra, pulled his chair up for him. “Thank you.”  
“He’s our guest, guys; everybody smile and, Cibus, prepare the best that you’ve got!” Prompto kept ordering around, apparently extra excited with the idea of serving someone. Ignis could only smile, but he, in all honesty, felt a bit embarrassed; the most that he had been attended would be at formal dinners with his uncle, and he would just be brought food and asked at times if everything was fine. Never had so many people…furniture…rushed around. Forks and dishes passed by, the noise in the kitchen grew hurried as if though they were serving an entire banquet, and other furniture hurried to clean the mess Gladiolus had left behind, right across from the seat Ignis had taken. “What would you like, Ignis? We have…actually, we don’t have much of a choice, b-but you’re going to love it-just you wait here and- add extra salt on it, Cibus!”

 _Extra salt no, please_. Prompto talked too much and jumped around with so much eagerness that Ignis did not even have time to stop him and tell him it was fine, he would just have a dish of something, not a buffet. While he sat there with a small sigh, awkward and very uncomfortable that he was not the one in the kitchen, he flinched when the arms of the chair he was sat on moved and took a napkin out of nowhere; the chair tried to tie it to his neck, but he, by reflex, put a hand up to stop it before tying it. He gave an apologetic smile over his shoulder to the chair and simply set the napkin down to his lap.  
He nervously tapped his fingers on each other, and soon turned when Prompto appeared through the door again, hopping onto the table.

“It’s going to take some moments, so…why don’t you…uhm…” Prompto seemed nervous and tried to think of something, and he soon looked up at Ignis with a gleaming look on his eyes. Ironic for a candelabra. “I know! While you wait, I’ll- do you want to see- I’ll show you some tricks, just you wait, you’ll love it- Noct!”  
“Eh” the clock sighed while managing his way up to the table as well, going to his friend without looking at him. “Here they are.”  
“Thanks, Noct!” Prompto thanked while receiving four matches from the clock. “See, Ignis, you’re going to love it.”

Before Ignis could say anything, the candelabra started juggling. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he gave a small, sympathetic smile while watching Prompto throw the matchsticks up and watching them as they fell, only to throw others up; the candelabra, trying to impress him, had also started to hum a senseless, circus-like tune. He really did try, not taking his eyes off the matchsticks and not failing for a single moment. Ignis was not too amazed, but Prompto was too charming not to feel moved; he was like a little kid wishing to make everyone happy.

“That was fantastic, Prompto” Ignis said with a smile, much more amused at the candelabra’s attitude than his tricks, and clapped very quietly a few times. “You’re amazing.”  
“Really?” the candelabra smiled up at him with bright eyes. “I’ve practiced! See, Noct? I told you I improved; keep denying it, but it’s a _fantastic_ performance, Ignis said it- did you hear, Noct?”  
Ignis only smiled at watched the two friends interact; despite how much effort the clock took to seem uninterested in everything, Ignis had noticed that, inside, Noctis really loved his friend and cared for him. He could act like he didn’t like having Prompto hugging him, but his motions to push him apart were never meant as something serious, and he usually ended up subtly hugging back or letting the candelabra do as he pleased. Ignis lowered a bit the eyes and fidgeted a bit with his own fingers.

“Is anything the matter, Ignis?” Prompto asked after Noctis had nudged at him and had pointed at the human with the head. Ignis looked up at them and blinked once.  
“My apologies” he started with quiet voice, “but you two reminded me…a bit of my friends” Ignis stared down again, but tried to dissimulate. “I wonder…”  
They stayed in silence. After a couple of moments, Noctis was first to speak.  
“It must suck” the clock sighed. “You’re all stressed and scared, man. All lonely, too.”  
“Noct-” Prompto had started to interrupt in a whisper, frowning slightly at his friend.  
“Seems like we have no other choice but stick with you” Noctis sighed as if in defeat, staring away and trying to have that always uninterested look in the face. “Maybe that way you won’t feel so lonely. Or something” the clock continued. “Gladio’s a scary behemoth, but we’re okay. I think. You should be grateful we’re around.”

Ignis did not say anything for the first seconds. The clock spoke with words that could sound rude if one did not dig for the meaning behind them. He wondered what kind of person…clock Noctis was or had been, to care but behave as if he did not. You should be grateful we’re around or, had Prompto or anyone else said it, we’ll be your friends so you won’t feel sad.  
Ignis smiled.  
“I should be, indeed” he said softly. The other two smiled up at him, and the silence was interrupted by a cart that entered from the kitchen, Iris on top of it. The cart stopped nearby, and a pair of long glasses helped to carry the dishes from it to bring them in front of Ignis. The man, watching his dinner, quieted and blinked at it. “Oh” he could not help but let out. “I…thought…”

“That you’d get more bread?” Iris questioned while serving hot water into a cup. Ignis chuckled and closed the eyes.  
“And a glass of water” he nodded. While he heard a spoon mixing some coffee in the hot water of the cup, Ignis looked again at his dish. It was a mess, but it was not a dumb piece of bread; he had a badly cut salad, which included lettuce, wrongly cut carrots, some onion, irregular bits of apple and even a slice of cucumber. It had no order and looked as if just randomly served. On top (instead of at a side like Ignis would have arranged it) there was a slice of steak, overcooked and awkwardly cut. But it was _steak_. Despite the terrible kitchen job, he had _proper food_.  
He got distracted when the spoon hit the cup after being done with mixing. Iris looked at him.  
“Is it one lump or two, Ignis?” Iris asked sweetly. “Or three, or four, or…?”

“Ignis, try this stuff!” he was interrupted before he could answer to the tea pot, and found Prompto going to him, holding some cookie of sorts with a grey cream on top. “They say it’s delicious!”  
“U-uh…” Ignis hesitated; it did not look _precisely_ delicious…but then again, he was their ‘guest’. Saying no would feel rude. He accepted the cookie and tried it; too much sugar, very little time on the oven, and maybe if they had added some…and if they…  
Ignis settled the head down. He had to be grateful for the food, not criticizing. He smiled down at Prompto and thanked him for the cookie, at the time Iris brought the cup of coffee closer to him, and while a spoon and a fork helped get a glass of water to him.

The man looked at his dinner and sighed.  
“Thanks, you lot” he smiled and accepted, with another ‘thanks’ as the fork lent itself for Ignis to grip. He tried to be soft; he was not sure if the furniture could feel pain, so he tried to be gentle with the fork and the knife that came to him.  
“Anything that you want, we’ll do our best, Ignis” Iris offered. “And remember, you’re not a prisoner.”  
“I know” Ignis smiled without taking his eyes off his food, taking some lettuce with the fork. “I’m a ‘guest’. Understood.”  
The furniture stayed quiet and Ignis did not need to stare around to know everybody was watching him. He brought the lettuce up to his mouth and carefully brought it to his mouth. He chewed slowly. There was silence. When he swallowed, he gave a quick lick to his bottom lip.  
“…delicious.”

It was as if though he had just said he discovered the cure to any and all diseases known by humankind: he flinched out of the noise the furniture did when they cheered, throwing the arms up and starting to move around as if celebrating or hurrying to bring more things to the table. Ignis could not help a small chuckle of surprise and confusion, and after a few moments into the cheers, he decided to continue eating. It was not bad, he really was enjoying the food (how could he not after being fed with only bread for two weeks?), but it could be way better. If he would do it, he wished.  
He said nothing regarding the overcooked steak or the messed salad, and just felt grateful he was eating decently for once. Most of his conversations were shared with his three friends, starting to feel more secure with them, and not minding at all to be a hostage. No matter how much they insisted on the word ‘guest’, and no matter how welcomed Ignis felt now, the raw truth is he was still a prisoner. 

“That was fantastic” Ignis half-nodded at his friends after he had finished with his dinner, the water, the coffee (which was too bitter and plain to his taste, though he said nothing) and a few cookies for dessert. The three smiled excitedly up at him. “I thank you for serving me. It was a great welcoming…but now that formalities can be left at a side, I will be honored to be welcomed in the kitchen by morning.”  
The three friends, at that, gave him questioning stares, confused looks, and shared them between themselves before looking back up at Ignis.  
The man stood up.  
“Tomorrow, I’m cooking.”  
“Huh?” Prompto questioned. “You cook?”

Ignis laughed softly and moved a hand up to pat Prompto’s head.  
“I know I may not look like it” Ignis stated, “but I have some skills in the kitchen.”  
“B-but you’re the-”  
“Guests have hands, too” Ignis said while pushing the chair back to its place with a hand, using the other to clean his mouth with the napkin. “And I enjoy of the kitchen. Ladies, gentlemen” he spoke to the room in general; “thank you greatly for the wonderful service. I have enjoyed my dinner. Goodnight.”  
Said that, Ignis turned around and exited from the same door he came from.  
The three friends stayed quiet and frozen in their places. 

“…imagine if Gladio walks on in the guy _cooking_ ” Noctis said with a quiet laugh. “In _my_ kitchen. And I mean, now that he’s like…that.”  
“You mean clean and shaved and properly dressed and not agonizing?” Iris questioned with a smile. “He looks so handsome, I had no idea he was so attractive!”  
Most of the furniture agreed; some shared little conversations in whispers, and others just nodded, the words ‘Handsome’ and ‘Gorgeous’ becoming audible and constantly repeated throughout the room.  
“Now you see what I mean” Noctis said with a sly smile. “Imagine when Gladio finds out that hiding under the dirt and the stupid hair and messed clothes...” the clock gave his friends a smirk and half-closed eyes. “…there’s a dude that’s _totally_ his type”

Prompto laughed.  
“And finding out he also _cooks_...” the candelabra laughed even more. “Gladio’s gonna _die_.”


	5. The West Wing

Ignis was finally living in good conditions, but it would still take him some time to be back to normal again.  
He was a morning person and woke up almost at the same time than the sun, but he had just been offered a queen-sized bed in a warm room after having spent two weeks on a cold, harsh floor in a prison cell. There was no way, despite being as paranoid as he was (even in his daily going before the stay at the castle), for him to have woken up early that day. Or at least as early as he was used to before all the mess. When he was done with dinner previous night, he found his room decently clean. He had wanted to thank the dusters and brooms and cloths that had helped, but there was no one left in there. No one, literally, because he searched but found that all the furniture in the room was inanimate.

Some moments into trying to get some sleep, Noctis interrupted again through the door. The clock had brought, with the help of a pair of coat racks, more clothes to him. He found the racks to behave oddly formally towards the clock as if though he was a superior to them, but they did not refer to him with a specific title or anything, and Noctis spoke to them like he would ask a friend for a favor, not like a commander over an inferior. He found it puzzling, the reason of why the racks still behaved as formal if they were not treating with a superior, but let it go. Turns out, Noctis had found not only more clothes for everyday going, but also a pair of pajamas.  
Ignis found that most of the clothing was black. A few of them had a skull design of sorts, most of times subtle and small. The concept gave him another déjà vu, but, again, he could not put his finger on why. One of the pajamas, like the rest of the clothing, was black; the other was grey.

Having thanked Noctis, the clock said goodbye and left “to his room”. Ignis found amusing the idea that a clock would occupy an entire room and not just a shelf. He found the fabric of the pajamas to be silk, and for a moment he felt guilty; what if he was putting on the clothes of what could have once belonged to a prince or a king or any other royal person? He was not supposed to keep them…but, then again, they were extremely soft, Ignis felt tired and achy, and if the castle had once been occupied it had to have been centuries ago, he recalled. So, despite the slight guilt, he slipped them on his body and went straight to bed.

He usually hated to start the day late, but he could not regret having slept in and stayed in bed afterwards for a couple more minutes. He knew that he was hostage, but he was in a _castle_ ; the bed, even if it was possibly the worst for the castle, was still twice the size he was used to and twice as soft. Five times softer. Ten times softer. And the bath, too; the bathroom alone was twice the size of his bedroom, and yet he would not be surprised to know that this could be seen as “the smallest” or “ugliest” one of the castle by the people…furniture living in there. He could not help but wonder what the King chamber could be like. The idea both excited him and made him uncomfortable; there was a huge King chamber somewhere that nobody occupied, filled of great decorations, that could cover all necessities and still spoil the person in there, a palace in one room…and the towns were, well, not as rich. If he could, he thought for a moment, he could bring half or all of Northern Insomnia to the castle, and they all would fit just fine and live twice better than in their town.

The beast put a limit to the food but not to the water, so Ignis, despite having showered the previous evening, took a bath again that morning. The combs in the bathroom insisted on trying to give him a ridiculous hairstyle, but he ended up convincing them to just pull it back. One of the combs had seen the way Ignis’ hair went up on the front after it dried, so it took its time to properly comb it upwards. The man laughed and felt a bit embarrassed, but thanked the comb nonetheless. He took some of the clothes that Noctis had brought to him, got dressed, and made his way downstairs. He was on a sixth floor, so he, of course, got lost in his way. He was not shy (not usually) so he asked for directions to some furniture, and he eventually managed his way there.

When he arrived, he saw, from the rests at the table and the furniture that patiently cleaned it, that the beast had already been there for breakfast. Careful and remembering that Gladiolus had ordered him to be invisible to him, Ignis looked around and tiptoed, slowly looking around and peaking a cautious look in the kitchen to make sure the beast was not still wandering around. He had to check twice ( _I’m not scared_ , he thought the entire time as he double-checked) to be sure Gladiolus was not around. He paid close attention with the ears and did not hear a single sign of him anywhere. He was not sure whether that should make him nervous or not, but there was little he could do about it. Alone, he made his way to the kitchen and found Iris there, by the cupboard.

“Good morning, Ignis” Iris greeted with a smile. “You look much better today.”  
“I’m flattered, Iris” the human smiled back at her, and she could not keep her eyes on him, looking away with shyness. Ignis, however, paid no attention to that. “I’ve come for some food, if I may.”  
“Yes, of course” Iris nodded. “I remember you said you’d like to cook today, right?”  
“If it is in my possibilities, yes” Ignis nodded, and, after looking around some moments, he moved to the window. “I can’t work with the kitchen as dark.”  
When he pulled the curtains apart, the furniture of the kitchen all stared away with yelps and gasps. Ignis himself looked away and used his hands to cover his eyes; he had not noticed how long he had stayed in the dark, whether deep or subtle, until now that he had a direct window to the outside, daylight coming through and striking him whole on the face. The rest of the furniture hissed and complained behind and around him, and, when Ignis managed to half-adapt his eyes to the light, he realized that by only putting the curtains apart a great amount of dust had fallen from them.

“…when was the last time you people opened the curtains?” Ignis questioned with a very subtle hiss, still with the hands up to cover his eyes and the eyelids fluttering in the attempt of his sight to get used.  
“I-I don’t know, it’s been…like two, or three…”  
“Weeks?”  
“Years.”  
Ignis turned to look at the tea pot, eyes widened. Iris looked a bit struck as well, but not as much. He guessed she was used to look out (maybe just through other windows) and to maybe even be outside, so she had no reason to complain to the light like he or the other furniture of the kitchen had. Ignis waited some moments like that and, when his eyes were used to their new surroundings, the man looked down at the counter. He gently stroked the counter with a finger and turned it around to see the result: it ended up totally grey as if though instead of dust he had put the fingerprint on paint. 

His eyebrows furrowed and he thought for a couple of moments. He looked around; spider webs, dust, things not in their place…  
“…I can’t work in these conditions” Ignis whispered with a sigh. He took some moments just standing there and then turned around. “Well, I can’t work in these conditions” he said louder as if expecting the furniture in the kitchen to hear him. “It’s stressing. I ignore if you enjoy of the place covered in dust, so if you do, please do stop me.”  
“Ignis?” Iris questioned and watched the man look for something in some drawers. “What are you doing?”  
“I’m cleaning up” Ignis stated while still looking in some drawers. After a couple of moments, he found a pair of leather gloves in one of them; when he tried them on, he found they fitted perfectly, and decided to keep them. “This kitchen is a mess; I cannot cook like this.”

Cleaning? It was not like it was forbidden or anything, but the last time somebody had properly cleaned it had been years ago. Iris hesitated for a moment if it was a good idea or not; when the beast came out of Gladio, it could get upset at senseless things like this. Then again, the beast had no reason to appear if one did not mess with Gladio. Iris sighed; _then again_ , Ignis was not behaving as kindly to him as she knew he could. For some reason, the human insisted on delivering angered and sarcastic comebacks to Gladiolus, and even indirectly insult him. Things between the two would not work if they did not cooperate. She had thought that maybe Gladio and Ignis would be good friends, but now that she realized, it was maybe the wisest to put them apart until the moment that the beast felt safe enough to release Ignis and all the mess came to an end. 

Iris saw Ignis moving around and stopping for a moment as if to think where he could start at. After a couple moments, Iris noticed the man would not give up despite the terrible mess; Ignis was determined to clean the kitchen and nothing would stop him. Realizing this, Iris blinked and hopped closer to him.  
“I-I’ll help, Ignis” she offered, smiling. “Let me call for some of the dusters.”  
“That would be wonderful, Iris” the human smiled back. “If you could also tell me where I could get a non-living duster, that would be fantastic.”  
When the dusters and other cloths arrived, and once Ignis was given what he had asked for, the man suddenly started spreading orders as if he was a commander or a captain.  
“You two over there; take those dishes out of that drawer, and pile them in here. Arrange them on two different piles according to their size; you, over there. Hello, gentlemen, ladies; you can cooperate emptying that cupboard. As they do, you four over there, two of you will clean the shelves and two of you will clean the crockery, please. Ah, you over there! I need you to take out these curtains; they’re old and won’t work. We need to replace them. Hello, over there-”

“Just what is he doing?” a cup asked to another one while watching him bossing around, pointing and signaling, demonstrating and ordering.  
“Who put him in charge?” the other cup asked as a response, and soon, Ignis was looking down at them.  
“Hello, gentlemen” he smiled kindly at them. “I would be grateful if you could help me clean the sink.”  
Both cups stayed quiet. They looked directly at his face, his oddly formal way of standing, and that stupid look in the eyes that, after a couple moments, made the cups stare away, flustered.  
They could not explain how, but they understood why the rest of the furniture had obeyed to what they were told to do; the guy had some sort of magic charm to himself that, with only a look of the eyes and a kind way of putting his words, made people _want_ to do as he said. Soon enough, those cups were helping as well on their free will.

Ignis, the hostage, the pathetic man that just the previous day was rotting in the tower, had suddenly become boss to the furniture, and they did not even mind.

\--

Gladiolus was not sure how to react when he arrived at the kitchen for lunch.  
He had walked in expecting the same than every day, but it was like a tornado had passed by. A positive tornado, though. Gladio stayed quiet, confused and not understanding, only able to look around at the unrecognizable room he had come into: the window was shining clean, and daylight came through it because the curtains were run open; he had not noticed how bright the things were under the light. He had not even noticed the proper corners until just now. Taking a closer look, the curtains were not the usual ones; those looked, if not new, at least never used before. When he entered to touch them, he found that the entire kitchen had been cleaned.

He had taken for sure that everything was a grey-shade of black, but it turned out to be bright black, with blue and golden details everywhere. The tiles were shining bright under his paws, the walls gleamed just looking at them. The cupboards shined as well, the inanimate furniture was bright and arranged in such a perfect order that it almost looked as if though they had placed them one by one with strict mathematical measures. Before he could open all the drawers and see if everything had the same perfectionist order, he was distracted by the second major shock of the kitchen; all the furniture that was animated were lying around as if they had just run all over Eos and had come back in a rush. Some even did motions of breathing heavily. Some of the cups in the boards were sleeping or resting lazily. There were some dusters resting by a counter, as tired. 

He stared around at the exhausted servants and raised an eyebrow, still not knowing what to do with the extremely clean kitchen he was standing in.  
“…should I ask what happened?” Gladio asked softly, and he saw Iris appearing from a side, tired but still up on her base.  
“Ignis wanted to clean the kitchen, and we helped a bit” she told him. “I didn’t know it was so much work…when you pay attention to everything…”  
“So you’re letting a random commoner that yesterday laid on the dirt and his own pee boss you around?” Gladio questioned not upset or angered but rather amused.  
“Oh, big brother” Iris giggled. “I assure you that, next time you see him, you won’t think he’s a random commoner dying on dirt.”  
“Like there could be a change” Gladio shrugged and offered a hand to his little sister so she could hop on it. “So, I assume none of you are willing to serve me something?”

The furniture let out a whine or a groan of tiredness. Gladio just rolled the eyes; that hostage was a mess. But whatever, he guessed; he could wait a bit more for lunch.

\--

Ignis had come to be as well after cleaning the kitchen. He had wanted to look everywhere for all the ingredients they could have there (it was a castle, it had to be full of every sort of extravagant vegetables, he thought), but he came to the resignation of cooking something very simple, too tired to think about complicating things. The furniture were the ones to bring him the ingredients, so he did not get a look of, what he thought would be, the giant stock room.  
At first, the stove (which he learned was alive) kept complaining and denying Ignis to let him cook; it seemed to be very jealous and wanted to be the only cook, but with a few and soft pats to chide it and some (like Iris called them) “nagging mom-like sayings”, and as determined as he was showing to be (when he was not throw in the dirt, starving), Ignis ended up taking dominance of the kitchen and the stove, and cooked on his own.

With the kitchen clean and able to use the sink, and properly cutting and spicing, he did a very simple breakfast that, despite the simplicity, tasted like heaven to him. When he was done, he washed the dishes he had used himself, and left somewhere else; it was not so early, so he feared the beast would appear soon for lunch, and decided he was better off going back to his room.  
And then it happened: for the first time in years, Ignis Scientia grew _bored_.  
At town, he was in a constant come-and-go with different activities; sometimes he had to go places for medicine for his dad, sometimes his father sent him for pieces for his inventions, or to the bookshop, or for other sort of materials, sometimes his uncle requested him to go places, deliver messages, copy papers, review papers, order papers. If not, he was training, but he doubted he could do that in the castle; besides, he had no daggers or spears to make any progress. If not, he was reading. No books in there either. 

He had taken a nap, unusual in him: his body was still tired and achy from his stay at the tower, and the kitchen had worn him out. He slept for some good couple hours, and when he woke up he realized that only this way, become a mistreated hostage in an abandoned castle, could be the only way to put him to sleep during the day.  
When he woke up, however, that was when he started getting bored. He was patient, but this was different; he was not waiting for something to happen, because he knew nothing would. He could wait for hours if he was aware he was doing something useful, but stand still and do nothing, while nothing happened, and the consequences would be _nothing_ , he could not handle that. The very least that he ever wanted in life was to be an obstacle, of no use, do nothing productive.  
Driven crazy by realizing he was bored and doing nothing, he decided that exploring the castle would do no harm.  
After all, the beast did say that he was free to wander around, so there should not be any reason for him to get in troubles. The only instruction was that he could not go out, so it was not in his intentions. He opened the door cautiously as if thinking the beast was out there, or thinking that maybe any furniture would give alarm, but nothing happened. He walked out carefully and, staring at his sides, he took the way to his right, and decided to let his feet take him wherever they pleased.

Sometimes he opened doors to take a look of the inside. Wherever he visited, many but not all of the rooms were a mess. Sometimes furniture was scattered as if though there had been fights in there, or just a slightly messy party in old times. By the fourth room he visited, Ignis thought that maybe if they could pile up the dust and spider webs in the castle, they could build a second castle with them. He was a bit of a perfectionist, and dirt made him incredibly uncomfortable and disgusted, so he was having a bit of troubles watching the magnificent castle he was in in such a poor state. It was a waste of a beautiful masterwork of architecture, in his opinion.

Somewhere in a hallway, he came across Noctis, who was walking in the company of a white feathered duster. They seemed to be talking like normal friends, walking together. Ignis did not mean to interrupt, but he was soon betrayed by a sound that startled him and made him flinch- a bark. He looked down expecting a dog to throw itself to him and bite his face off, but, when he caught sight of the animal, it turned out to be a black footstool with white decorations. Ignis looked at it with wide eyes, stepping slightly back as the footstool swung its…tail, pulling itself up on two feet to rest the other two on Ignis’ legs, and it suddenly barked again. This took the human off guard; he already knew there was people-like furniture, but he had no idea there was animal-furniture too. 

The clock and his friend stopped in their way and looked over their shoulders, but Ignis had not noticed; he was too busy dealing with a second footstool, this one with the colors inverted if compared to the first one. Both footstools were eagerly trying to jump to his face, pushing him and running around him, and Ignis had no idea what to do. While he dealt with the dogs-of sorts, he heard a feminine little laugh.  
“Umbra! Pryna! Stop, that’s not the way to treat the guests.”  
Ignis saw the footstools obey and leave him alone, before heading towards Noctis and his friend. The man sighed, and felt he had to go say hello, or he could be seen as rude. He approached carefully, and saw the footstools letting the furniture friends hop on them.  
“Ignis” Noctis greeted from his place on top of the black…dog. “Didn’t expect to see you around. What are you doing here?”

“My apologies” Ignis sighed, coming down to his ankles; he felt rude standing on his feet, being as tall as he was, and keeping the furniture eternally looking up at him. They would break their equivalent of necks if he stayed up the whole time. “I thought that maybe a little exploration around the castle would do no harm. I was getting rather…unoccupied in my room.”  
“Nice” Noctis said; for a moment Ignis thought he could get scolded, but the clock seemed to care about Ignis wandering around poking his nose in everything as much as he enjoyed of mornings. Nothing. “And? Do you like the Cita- uh, the castle?”  
“It’s…got an exquisite taste for architecture” Ignis chose the words carefully. “Majestic. I would be too shocked to speak if this place came back to its lively days” said that, Noctis gave a lazy ‘Uh’ and stared away, moving a hand up to scratch his face, and Ignis turned to look at the duster. “You’ll forgive me for being rude; I’m afraid I have yet not asked your name.”

“Hello, mister Ignis” the duster said and presented a reverence of sorts. From the motion, Ignis could picture a young woman bending very slightly the knees while carefully holding the fall of her dress rather than bow the body. “My name is Lunafre-…Luna” she said with a bright smile up at him, her immaculate-white feathers giving her an air of grace. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”  
“Ah, Luna” Ignis said while staring up, the usual serious expression painting his face. “I think Prompto once…or was it you, Noctis?” the man tried to remember. “Whoever it was, I have heard your name being mentioned; and, if I am not mistaken, I should probably bow before you” Ignis gave her a tiny smile; “I have only heard good things of you, my lady.”  
“I have also heard very positive things about you, mister Ignis” Luna replied with a sweet smile. “Prin-…Noctis here speaks all the time about y-”  
“I do not” Noctis interrupted, crossing the arms and staring away. Ignis was not sure of what it meant, but he had noticed that every time something took Noctis off guard or when something flustered him, his needles would tremble or hurry, or simply mess up. The human guessed that was his equivalent of blushing, maybe. 

“Noctis, you really talk a lot about this man” Luna said while looking at the clock. Ignis raised the eyebrows. “The man of the tower with a courage you envy and the kindest man of e-”  
“I never said that” Noctis replied, moving a bit so that instead of facing the human he was giving a three quarters view. Ignis raised the eyebrows even more; he knew that Prompto and Iris were excited about Ignis living in the castle (a bit too much, if he was honest), but with all the ‘Eh’ comments from the clock, his laziness, and his attitude of uninterested had made him think that, while he did care for Ignis’ wellbeing, he also just kept it as some sort of formality rather than a personal thing. _A courage you envy_. If that was true, Ignis realized, the clock had a much greater esteem for him than he was willing to demonstrate.  
“Anyway” Luna returned her attention to Ignis after a little laugh at Noctis’ flustering, and the human stared back, even though the realization of what Noctis thought about him still echoed in his head. “I apologize for the treatment you received earlier in your stay, mister Ignis; and I personally apologize for not having gone to visit you before.”

“There is no need to worry, my lady” maybe it was out of the way she talked, or something in the mature image she gave, or maybe it was just the picture of a white, beautiful dress that Ignis imagined out of the feathers, but for some reason he could not look at her and think of calling her only by the name. There was something that asked him to call her by ‘Lady’. It was the essence to herself, or maybe the attitude, but she made Ignis feel like a loyal servant to her. Like a queen or a princess. “I have been given a room and I am allowed to get proper food. I’m well treated now.”  
“I’m glad to know that” Luna replied with a little bow of her head. “If you continue this way, you’ll get to the south wing; the training hall’s there.”  
“With Gladio in it” Noctis added, and his lone four words made the whole context different to Ignis’ eyes. “So…”

“Understood” the man said, eyes down. “I shall not…interrupt. Thanks, Noctis.”  
The clock gave one of his usual ‘Eh’ and had not managed to look at Ignis; since Luna exposed him, Noctis acted very awkward. Ignis was moved by knowing the clock’s opinion on him, moved at the mere idea of acknowledging that he actually spoke about Ignis, but did not retake the conversation on that matter. He thought that Noctis had no reason to get all embarrassed, but he did not tell him anything either.  
“It’s an honor, mister Ignis” Luna said with another small reverence of sorts, smiling.  
“The honor is all mine, lady Luna” Ignis said and only half-nodded with respect towards her, before he stood up. “Excuse me” he said to both of them and took a few steps backwards before turning around and leaving through the hallway.

 

If he had reached south he could go…but he also did not know which direction he came from, so maybe if he turned…or it could be that other way…  
Ignis did not deny that the castle was beautiful, but he also knew that it was too big for him to handle. It was like a small city, but separated in floors, sections, wings. He was getting lost easily. He, however, kept going without asking any furniture for directions; not all of them were alive, and even when he walked past some who greeted him, he still would not ask where he was going to because he really did not have any destination. He had gone out to explore and that was exactly what he was doing. 

After some minutes on the go, Ignis had realized that the castle had gone too quiet and that things were slightly more abandoned than the rest he had gotten to see so far. The section he was walking through deserved the prize for The Dustiest One, and the darkest. Nobody had taken their time to run the curtains of any window or to light a fire anywhere. Ignis hesitated at first if he should continue or not, and as he kept walking, he discovered a double door, much taller than himself, even much taller than the beast, but nothing that could say this was an important room or anything.  
When Ignis put a hand on the knob, it struck him like a brick to the head.  
This was the West Wing.

Realization made his hand flinch away of the knob, but did not move his feet from their spot. He stood in front of the door, quiet, listening to his heartbeat. The beast had told him, had _ordered_ him to not come there. Ignis was not one to break the rules; he was told not to do something, and he did not. He, as a human being, knew that the forbidden was also the one that caused the most curiosity. He had, however, long gotten over that: he had been raised, both by his uncle and Ignis’ brain itself, to be of use, total loyalty, and to obey. In Ignis’ opinion, it was the fact that a man could stay completely calm when he was forbidden something what made of him someone useful, mature, worth. It meant they have rationality; as easy as not doing what they were told not to. All over his life, he had never felt the need to poke his nose where they told him not to. It would not even cross his mind. After all, he knew, human rules were made with a purpose.

But this one rule was not made by a human, was it?

Ignis contained a sigh in his chest and looked over his shoulder to the hallway behind him. His eyes scanned every corner, looked at every piece of furniture to make sure none was alive or watching him. When he looked back at the door, he hesitated once more. Ignis, again, looked over his shoulder and put a hand to the knob. It had taken him some minutes since he was told the beast was in the training hall, so it had to be quite far, considering all the distance Ignis had walked, so Gladiolus would not hear and had no reasons to appear there. Besides, it was not like Ignis would spend hours in there; he just wanted to see what could be there that was so important. He could not steal whatever it was, as he could not go out of the castle, if that was the reason to worry. In a last thought, Ignis considered that maybe there in the West Wing the beast could have hidden his daggers. Of course, he did not want Ignis to have them, because he had already seen that the man could handle them with skill.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, Ignis softly and very slowly turned the knob, and opened the door. He opened it only enough so that he could fit through; he decided to leave it half-opened, so he would avoid noise when closing it, then having to open and close it again when he would exit. It was only a quick glimpse after all, he reminded himself.  
The room was dark, so it took him some moments for his eyes to get adapted. Staring around, he found himself to be surprised: he was not sure what he had expected, but a trashed, destroyed room sure not. Most of the furniture was either destroyed or turned around, but not like in other rooms where it looked as if though they had lost balance and had fallen. The things in this room looked as if though there had been an entire army stampede through, or like there had been a tornado, or a miniature war of sorts. The tapestry was ripped, old curtains hung from a long window at the other side of the room, there were broken pieces of glass, a destroyed table. Swords abandoned on the ground. Ignis was watching everything as he slowly walked in straight line to the middle of the room.  
While watching the ripped tapestry, he saw, on a spot on the wall, a black, splattered, long stain. At the same time Ignis’ heart skipped a beat, thinking it could be dry blood, his thoughts were distracted when his foot stepped on something that made noise under him.

Ignis pulled his foot away, careful, looking down at the floor. There were pieces of…something. Not helping the curiosity, Ignis went down to his ankles and got a closer look. It was metal, some he could not identify with this poor light. The paint on it was light colored, and some parts looked like decorated borders, but nothing too extravagant. He, carefully, took one of the biggest pieces and lifted it, finding it heavier than he expected, and looked underneath; there on the back was what looked like the base of a grip. Ignis, eyebrows furrowed and head totally drown in curiosity, placed the piece back down and he stood up, trying to solve the puzzle without reuniting the pieces, scanning the shape, trying to know what it would be if he put the pieces back in one.  
It looked like a broken shield.  
Ignis took some steps away, deeper into the room, without taking his eyes off the shield. Could…could some army of some town, at some point, have invaded the castle, and the beast…?

Ignis had thought of abandoning the place, but another thing called his attention suddenly. While stepping away of the shield and the center of the room, his eyes caught, somewhere by a side, a red gleam of soft, gentle light, very subtle but contrasting against the darkness around. Ignis, by reflex, turned around and tried to spot the source of the shy red light. He stopped for a moment when he saw it, and the breath he had been containing escaped him very quietly and lightly at the time he dropped his shoulders.  
It was a rose, that floated on a small table, trapped in a glass container.  
He did not have a personal liking for flowers. He enjoyed of them, but they did not drive him crazy or anything. And still, the rose he was watching caught him like a spider web catches a fly.

Forgetting about the broken shield and the possible dry blood in what could or not be a torture chamber, he simply approached the rose, slowly. It was not that it was a flower, or that it was particularly pretty. Indeed, it looked like it was past midway on its withering process. It could not keep the head up any longer, and there were only a couple petals left on it, which red color was already invaded by black dots. The rest of the petals which had to belong once to the head rested at its feet, on the table. Truth be told, the flower itself was ugly. But it glowed. And floated. 

The closest Ignis had been to magic had been Healer Izunia. The man was the only mage of Lucis, and he used his powers to protect towns and heal people. For some reason, Ignis had never felt too comfortable when dealing with the man. He was deeply grateful for all that he did for the people, but he was not comfortable with a direct approach or treatment with him. It stressed him. The man was kind, but…there was something that did not end up convincing Ignis. But despite the strange sensation when nearby him, Ignis could not help his liking for his use of magic: after all, there was none left in Lucis (tales had it there was magic everywhere in times of the kings, but that had to have been centuries ago), so every time he could see even if just a tiny glimpse of magic, Ignis was fascinated. As a man of science and mathematics, like his father, he was amazed by magic, which had less explanations or logic.

That was his reason of being so amazed by the flower: he, without expecting it, had found magic. Ignis knew that talking furniture and a beast-with-man-complex was not something easily logical, but he had not thought of everything as magic. He gave himself no explanation about the furniture, and had guessed the beast was just that, an animal; but right now he was realizing he was not in a castle, it was a _magic_ castle. Of course, he thought while watching the rose with a subtle, fascinated smile and the eyes hypnotized on the flower, which other explanation could there be but _this_? 

He stayed quiet, amazed and not thinking, just enjoying of it. Feeling like a moth to a flame, he could not help himself and slowly brought a hand up, stretching the arm towards the vase that protected the flower.  
Right as his fingertips almost rubbed the glass, the little light in the room disappeared behind a shadow.  
Ignis looked up and froze in his place.  
The beast was looking down at him with a frown. 

When he noticed, Ignis’ heart almost stopped and escaped through his ribcage. The man went back up after being bent, at the same time he took many steps backwards, without panic but in a hurry. He stopped by reflex when he was at a prudent distance from the monster, but he could not help his body as it started trembling. He kept the eyes on those of the beast, trying with all his might not to look away.  
“What the _fuck_ are you doing _here_!?” Gladiolus roared loudly, so loudly that Ignis, despite having heard him do that in previous days and managing to stay still, this time blinked and flinched in response, taking half-a-step back without noticing. “ _What did I tell you!?_ ”  
“I only…” Ignis tried to start defending himself, taking another step back, without turning around and keeping his eyes on the beast.  
“ _What_ are you doing _here_!?” Gladiolus roared again, clearly not listening and not caring to whatever Ignis had to say. 

The beast hurried rounding the rose and approaching Ignis. The man, still without turning around, hurried backwards some more. He stopped when his back crashed with a table, so he rounded it and continued walking back. Gladiolus, still roaring like Ignis had not heard him do before, not even the night of their fight, jumped towards him and, angered, he flipped the table, sending it flying back. Ignis ducked and rolled to a side to avoid it, and saw the abandoned tea set that had been on the table shattering, and the table breaking against the wall. He looked back at Gladiolus and hurried up to his feet; the beast, on his part, was throwing his claws to a wall, still blind in anger. Ignis stood frozen there for a moment and the beast turned to glare at him again, snorting.  
“What!?” Gladiolus roared at him. Ignis looked at the shattered table and porcelain at his feet. 

“Of course, you get angry at me and that gives you the right to destroy a fine tea set that could have had been a majestic work of art” Ignis started lecturing him out of not knowing what else to do to entertain him, trying to earn some time while his eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for a weapon, anything he could use as a weapon, anything that he could use, anything.  
“What!?” Gladiolus, taken off guard at the comment, snorted at him.  
“Congratulations, that which you just destroyed was a valuable handmade antique that historians would have died for” Ignis chided, still looking around but not coming with any best strategy but to escape; anything that he could use as a weapon was too far from him, and in the state he knew he was getting Gladiolus into, he had no chances of reaching any without engaging in battle, mostly because Ignis himself still did not fully recover from the weakness of the previous two weeks. Thinking he had nothing left to lose, seen as the beast was terribly upset and he was going to kill him right there out of blind anger, Ignis glared at the other and it escaped him in full consciousness. “You, beast.” 

With that last drop that spilled the glass, Gladiolus flipped a chair at a side, crawled towards Ignis, and roared loudly again. The man took many steps backwards until he felt the knob of the door behind him, and he quickly took a grip of it without turning around.  
“ _Fuck off!!_ ” the beast roared at him, and Ignis, taking that as the beast’s only chance of forgiving his life only this once, quickly opened the door, exited, closed it again and started hurrying, still going backwards. He tried his best not to stumble, keeping the eyes on the door and hearing Gladiolus going in full beast mode in the room. Ignis breathing trembled while hurrying backwards, focused entirely in survival mode himself.  
When he had backed enough and found another hallway, he hurried through it. Too proud to admit the need of it, he only walked quickly instead of running, and left the West Wing.

\--

Ignis found two of his friends in the way to his room, and two more had gotten there at the same time he did, so the four entered before Ignis would hurry on shutting the door closed.  
Many furniture had gone to see what was happening in the West Wing while the chaos happened, their attention caught by the noise. Among the ones who went to check on the situation, Prompto and Iris had appeared and had heard part of the argue, and had followed him to his room. Had Ignis run, they would not have caught up with him in time to enter his room.  
Noctis and Luna had had the help of the footstools, which had carried them, to go with him when the news of the ‘captive human and Gladio fighting at the West Wing’ got to them. 

When Ignis shut the door, he kept both hands on it as if the longer he pressed it the harder it would be to open it from the outside. He watched his hands, still in the leather gloves, tremble against his own will. He was aware of the furniture presence in his room, but nobody said anything or made a noise other that the man’s respiration, heavy but not hurried.  
After a couple moments, Ignis let go of the door. He took a couple of steps back, as if this time he did not want to give his back to the entrance, until he felt the bed behind himself. Once there, he slowly sat down, still tense. He let out a breath through the nose, frowning. Still in silence, he took his glasses off and shut the eyelids, moving a hand up to massage his temples and eyes.  
“That was very wrong of you, Ignis” Iris was first to speak, keeping the voice kind but it was still clear she was upset and chiding him. The man did not look at her. “He clearly asked you to not go there.”

“What is wrong with that?” Ignis could not help his anger, even though he stayed rather calm on the outside. “What’s wrong with him? There’s nothing in the West Wing, just broken stuff and a rose. He had no reason to behave like that. It is not like the world would end if I touch the flower.”

The silence of his friends made Ignis hesitate. It had seemed obvious to him back in the West Wing, but now that he had said it aloud he realized that he really had no idea what could happen if he did touch the rose. After all, he remembered, it was magic, and he had no single idea of how it worked. For a moment, he realized that maybe he _could_ be wrong and to blame, but he did not admit it, not explicitly.  
“…is it?” he could not help but lowly wonder. He hated to be wrong, especially regarding something that fired him up this much, but he also hated to not be corrected. He looked up at the furniture, only then realizing Noctis and Luna were there as well, sat on top of the footstools. Everybody was watching him in total silence. Ignis could not help the guilt when the friends looked at one another, none knowing what to do or say, and clearly upset in some or other way. 

“Ignis…” Luna was first to recall. “I think…you should know who Gladiolus is, and what the matter with the West Wing and the rose is.”  
“Luna” Noctis called her in a whisper, clearly in some sort of worried warning. The duster gave him a reassuring and serious look, and the clock only stared down. “…alright.”  
Everybody stayed quiet some moments. Prompto and Iris looked nervous and not comfortable by the idea of letting that information out, but none said anything, as if trusting that Luna was doing the right thing. Ignis waited patiently while the duster seemed to look for the correct words. 

“Ignis” Luna started, “we were not always…like this” at her words, Ignis furrowed slightly the eyebrows, still attentive. “And so was not Gladiolus. Five years ago, we lived through an event that still gives some of us nightmares, which turned our lives upside-down, and which has haunted Gladio ever since” she said softly, and the furniture seemed to become sad at the words. Realizing this, Ignis knew, with guilt, that Luna was not lying for sympathy. “Before that…we all were different. Gladiolus used to have full rationality and control over himself, but it has withered throughout the years…”  
“…as has done the rose” Ignis whispered after long moments in silence, suddenly not angry anymore. He kept the head down, the gaze slightly lost, the panic all gone and entirely replaced by a sudden comprehension that pinched his heart with guilt. He interpreted the silence as an agreement. “…is the rose the source of his life?”

“We are not sure” Luna admitted. Ignis turned to look at her, confused.  
“We don’t know for sure what the rose is, or what its power could be” Noctis took the word this time, much less awkward than he tended to be. Ignis looked at him, at the eyes that looked like sapphires. “To be more specific, I’ll say it like it was: Ignis, the reason we are living furniture and the reason Gladio’s losing his rational mind to that of a beast, is because somebody cursed us.”  
The clock’s friends seemed especially uncomfortable when Noctis said that, as if they thought he had gone too far with information. Noctis, however, stood still in his place, not taking his eyes off Ignis. The man looked at him with a new sensation in the chest: he had always seen the clock as an awkward young adult, but the way he was behaving and standing, even as a clock, made Ignis feel that he had a leader hidden somewhere inside himself. It made Ignis feel a bit of like an inferior, but he shrugged the sensation off. 

Ignis nodded after some moments, remembering how he had thought that the castle was magic. Turned out it was dark magic, for what he was starting to understand.  
“So you guys are alive because of a curse…” Ignis stated in a half-questioning tone. The furniture looked as if though those were not the words they would have chosen, but they ended up nodding either way. “Same which has made Gladiolus let go of his…senses?” the furniture, again, hesitatingly nodded. “…and what does the rose have to do? Is it the source of the curse? Why not get rid of it to break the curse?”  
“It’s…a bit complicated, buddy” this time it was Prompto who had taken the word. The candelabra, despite always acting like a goof, was serious this time. “The curse doesn’t come from the rose; it was…” he looked around as if looking for approval before saying it, and when Noctis nodded at him, the candelabra turned back at Ignis to continue. “It was a Wizard. He casted the spell that’s turned…the situation in this” Ignis hesitated a moment, not knowing if he was really understanding. “He tried to cause greater chaos, and murder…” again, he looked at his friend for approval. Noctis half-nodded, hesitating. “…he tried to murder…someone important.”

“…and it was Gladio who saved that person.”  
Ignis looked at Noctis. For such a heavy statement, the clock had not stuttered through it. The rest of the friends either gave him looks Ignis could not interpret, or stared away with sadness.  
“He…saved…?” Ignis started questioning, eyebrows furrowing.  
“We know you see him as a wild and dumb animal, Ignis” the tea pot stated with a slight resentment that made the man uncomfortable. “But he’s not. Has not always been” she stopped some moments as if to calm herself. “He’s a loyal person, and the spell that hit him is what has turned him into…it’s what has made his real being disappear with every passing year.”  
“We decided to enter the room as little as possible and leave it almost in the same conditions it was after the curse was casted, just in case any alteration to it could affect the rose or the curse” Luna took the word; Ignis could not help but stare away with worry and the guilt increasing, remembering he had moved some of the parts of the broken shield. He hoped that it would cause no major troubles or anything. “The Wizard left without giving us a single clue on how to break the spell, and behind him appeared the rose and a mirror.”

“We know the use of the mirror. But…we don’t know what the rose is” Prompto continued. “It’s there, it appeared along the curse, but…we don’t know what to do with it, or how it works. We did think about destroying it to see if the curse broke that way, but…” the candelabra hesitated, not knowing how to arrange his words. “Well, they found out that the rose is somehow…how do I say it, Noct?”  
“Apparently” the clock took the word for his friend, “the rose is not the source of the curse, but some sort of…measurer.”  
“Measurer?” Ignis questioned, now much calmer about the event of the west wing but now upset with the conversation he was holding. He was not sure if he understood well. He helped his friends up onto the bed, one by one, while he processed the information. Once the five were sat on the bed and after a few moments of silence, the man asked more. “What sort of measurer?”  
“It’s…apparently…” Iris started saying, as if fearing the words. “…counting how much time we have left, before…”

Silence. Ignis waited patiently.  
“…before?” he offered gently, trying to show he was comprehensive enough so the friends could trust in him. They still hesitated some moments, before Prompto sighed and Luna spoke.  
“Before we stop living as we know” she stated, quiet but firm. Ignis stared away, uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. “We believe that when the rose shall wither, when the last of the petals falls, we will lose the ability to move or speak anymore…and Gladiolus will lose all the rational mind he still keeps, and become but an animal of instincts.”  
Once said that, Iris was first to react; she came to press herself to Prompto, currently the one standing closest to her, with a little sob. Ignis had no idea how attached he had grown to them until that little sob from the tea pot; the only sound made Ignis’ heart shrink and ache, and forced him to stare away, suddenly very sad.

“We have noticed that every time a petal falls, we become a bit more stiff, and Gladio falls into bestiality a bit more” Noctis informed. “When the curse was set, he was…he acted like a…man. Walked straight, spoke normally, his attitude had no changes. He’s a beast, biologically, of course, but his mind was perfectly clear. When the first petal fell, his attitude bent and, even though we didn’t notice at first, he had…started to behave a bit more…wildly, as in, like…like an animal.”  
“Every time a petal falls” Prompto spoke. “Big guy has more troubles to control his temper. That didn’t happen to him when he was…when…before the curse. He could be a bit rude at times, but never aggressive.”  
“That’s why it took us so long to take you out of the tower, and the reason he gets aggressive and fired up at things that may seem small” Noctis continued. “It’s not that he’s cruel. It’s just that…the curse is turning him, step by step, into a beast with no ability to think rationally. So it was not _Gladio_ who kept you locked in there; it was that we couldn’t convince the _beast_ that’s taking over him. Do you understand?”

Ignis stayed quiet. He could not manage to look up or to shake away the guilt. He had always found Gladiolus to be an animal, unable to think. He could speak, of course, but that did not make him a man to Ignis’ eyes. To him, he was an animal, a monster, a creature, he was but a beast in the large meaning of the word. Ignis had even called him by ‘it’, and even though he had started to use the pronoun ‘he’, the truth is that he was doing it for Iris, who had looked upset when Ignis had referred to him as a thing. Gladio had not earned it, and Ignis had, until now, not stopped to see him as an ‘It’. He had not stopped to think he had not always been a creature of instincts only…and it certainly did not cross his head that Gladiolus was one thing, and the bestiality in him was something different. He had no idea Gladiolus had once been a harmless creature, and that what he found was something different that was not the real him.  
Context changed things _enormously_.

“Gladio’s not a monster” Iris said. “He looks like it but he’s not a monster. He’s in a constant fight within himself to keep the beast locked away; he’s fighting, all the time, _all_ the time with himself so he can keep his sanity, to not give up to the beast. He fights with all that he has for the animal instincts not to be stronger than his…rationality” said that, Iris looked up at Ignis. She frowned at him with real anger. “And you’re not helping.”  
“Excuse me?” Ignis said not with sarcasm or upset, but rather taken off guard.  
“You speak to him so rudely, you’re so sarcastic with him, and you speak to him as if though he’s a disgusting worm…” Iris started listing, still frowning but looking down, the voice rising. “Of course you think of him as an animal, because you treat him like that!” she snapped at him. “Do you know how much troubles Gladio already deals with inside himself so that you come and behave rude to him and throw down all the effort he’s taken? Do you think he doesn’t suffer too?”

“Iris” Luna called, making her way towards the tea pot. “Calm down. Ignis didn’t know.”  
“Not knowing didn’t give him any right to behave like that with Gladio!” the tea pot complained again, but stayed still as Luna got to her and leaned close as if for a hug. “He tries so hard to be good, but Ignis has only been rude with him so far…”  
“You _are_ behaving a bit rude, buddy” Prompto noted, and the man turned to look at him. “Why?”

Ignis stayed quiet. Nobody said a word for a while. The human looked at his hands, his fingers fidgeting with one another, slowly but in a clear sight of anxiety for him, who used to stay still normally.  
“…I’m conscious of it” Ignis accepted in a quiet murmur, loud enough for the friends to hear. They stayed quiet again for some moments. “…I’m conscious of the comments I make to him. I deliver them on purpose” he turned to look at the furniture pieces, but the eyes went down again. The apologetic look on his face was obvious. “…I think…I think that it makes me feel safe” it was low, but not a whisper. “When I give him a rude comment…” he stopped for a moment. “I am…not used to not be on control. To be submissive. And treating him like that, it makes me feel like I have the power over him and not the other way around. I think I do it because I try to convince myself that I’m brave enough to face him, to anger him on purpose, to be rude to him. I think that I want to prove to myself that I’m not afraid of angering him.”

He shifted lightly his position on the bed, bringing the leg that had been hanging from an edge up to elegantly rest with the other.  
“…I think that I’m being rude with him on purpose” he whispered, “because I want to hide to myself the fact that, for the first time since I can remember, I’m scared.”  
There was silence. Outside, the sun had come to be halfway into the horizon. The light of the outside painted his room with a palette of warm colors.  
“And _powerless_ ” Ignis continued. “I’ve been scared before, but I’ve always had ways to face it. This time, however…”

Nobody said anything for a moment. The silence was extended longer to any previous one in the conversation, but it was interrupted a couple minutes later.  
“…you know, Ignis, there _is_ something you can do about it” Prompto started offering, the voice much lower and calmer, much softer than he had ever used before or, at least, than Ignis had ever heard from him so far. The man looked at him, serious as usual. “You can…try to be friends with him.”  
“Huh?” Ignis questioned, raising lightly the eyebrows.  
“Prompto’s not wrong” Luna commented with a smile. “You have been rude with him because you’re scared that he’s aggressive, and he’s aggressive because you’re rude with him” she nodded lightly. “If you don’t give him reasons to get upset, he shouldn’t have any reason to be aggressive with you.”  
“He looks like a beast, Ignis” Noctis commented. “But you don’t have to treat him for what he looks like. There’s more under the fur, you know?”

More silence. Ignis did not remember when had been the last time he had shared such an intimate moment of any sort. He put the eyes down and had to accept it inside: he had been wrong. All this time he had gone with the first impression…nobody could blame him for not thinking that maybe Gladiolus was not the beast itself, but he had to accept he had been wrong by treating him like he had done so far. He believed himself to not be judgmental…he proved himself wrong when he stumbled across something he did not know. Putting his glasses back on after keeping them in a hand the entire time, Ignis sighed quietly.  
“…I will try” he said lowly. Eventually, he looked at the furniture on his bed, the four watching him. He first looked at the tea pot. “I apologize, Iris. You…I should not have behaved with Gladiolus this way. I did not know…whatever links you to him, I have insulted it. I’m sorry.”

Iris smiled up at him. She still looked a bit sad, and Ignis guessed out of the glance she was giving him that, if her eyes were not painted or craved on herself as she was a furniture piece and instead had human eyes, they could have been watering. He looked at Prompto, Noctis, Luna and his gaze went on the four for some moments.  
“I apologize to all of you” he sighed. “I will…try not to lose my composure in front of him, and behave.”  
“You’ll see, he’s a good guy” Prompto nodded at him. “It’s just a matter of giving him the chance.”  
“I uh…I do should say…” Noctis started, going back to his usual awkwardness when some shyness of sorts struck him. Ignis wondered if the clock had always been so socially dumb; he liked that of Noctis, nonetheless. “…well, you know…Gladio’s kinda upset right now, you know, so…”  
“I shall wait for a couple days, so he can cool down and not eat my head when I make my next approach” Ignis stated with a nod. “Understood.”

“He did tell you to not go to the West Wing, buddy” Prompto shrugged. “Not that I- n-not, sorry Ignis, not that I agree, but…I agree.”  
“I…it had not been in my intentions-” Ignis started defending himself, but as the righteous man he was, he sighed and admitted to himself he had been wrong. He sighed. “He did tell me. I am grateful he managed to stop me before I touched the rose. I could have caused chaos and disaster to all of you” he looked at them again, with apologetic, embarrassed eyes. “I do ask for forgiveness. Had I known the rose was so important and delicate…”  
“Man, let it go” Noctis sighed, crossing his arms. “Done and gone. Maybe touching it wouldn’t have done anything…we just really, really worry that, if we do, we’ll accidentally drop more petals, and, you know…speed up the effects of the curse and all…”

“Right…” Ignis nodded slowly. “…the curse moves as so does the life of the flower…”  
“At least that’s what it seems” Luna agreed.  
Ignis nodded at her again, slow. He contained a breath in his chest. He knew that the four friends were thinking the same than him. The conversation had led them to keep their minds busy in the same subject, fragile enough for none of them to want to speak about it aloud.  
“…there is not a way to break the curse?” Ignis questioned lowly, finally trying to get the new weight of his heart out of his chest, but not wanting to offend or upset the others. The furniture could not help it and shared glances between themselves, before looking at him again.  
The heads down, they slowly shook their heads in a negative response. 

Ignis did not nod this time. He understood, but did not agree. He could not understand magic, but if that was the way it worked, without an answer, without a hope, then he was not interested in it anymore.  
“We’ve tried many things across the years” Prompto said. “Some that involved the rose and the mirror, but…no luck.”  
“We haven’t found a way, and there was no clue left behind” Iris added. “If there was no clue, then maybe it’s because there can’t be one, because there can’t be an answer.”  
“Nothing” Ignis muttered. There was silence, and when he looked up at the window he bid goodbye to the last of daylight, welcoming the darkness of the night. He kept the eyes there without moving. Some movement from the friends made him turn and look at them, finding them sitting or shifting in their places. Only looking, Ignis felt in the heart the sensation of when somebody plays a sudden but very low and soft, melancholic high-pitched chord on a piano.

He stared down for a moment, unable to look at them without that sensation of ache in the chest. He had been there for only a bit more than two weeks, he had no reason to feel like that for people…furniture who had nothing to do with him. Yet, he could not help the pinch of the heart.  
Iris, the tea pot that had talked with him so sweetly, always happy, cheerful, and who saved him from dehydration, the sweet pot that defended Gladio with the heart no matter the circumstances…  
Luna, a duster he had known just for a day but had him at his feet just by the sole presence, in a way that made him feel like a servant to a queen. The duster that had been good to him, had smiled at his presence.  
Noctis, the socially awkward clock who stuttered at times. His pretty but worrying way of walking like a leg hurt, but never complaining, his little needles that marked the time and made him upset every time they pressed to his eyes. His beautiful, stunning, big eyes that, even when being only paint, looked like a pair of valuable gems, dark but kind, intense but soft. His way of worrying, so subtle but so obvious. His kindness. All his attempts of making Ignis comfortable. His spontaneous moments of leadership.  
Prompto, the joyful candelabra that had worried so much for him. The candelabra Ignis hit on the face when they met. Prompto, who had taken troubles without minding only to bring him food, to sneak upstairs to clean him, to keep him company, who worried for his situation even more than Ignis himself. Prompto, the sweet candelabra that tried so hard to make him happy, despite standing in a worse situation, despite knowing that one day he would stop existing…

Ignis looked at them a last time before his eyes slowly went down along the beats of his chest.  
“…If there was any way in which I could help to break the curse…” Ignis said lowly, his body untensed and loose with sadness. The furniture, used to the silence and believing Ignis would not talk anymore over the night, all looked up at him, a bit surprised, expecting. Ignis looked at them; even though they were used to see him not smiling, this time he did not look cold serious, but rather down in the dumps. “If I could do _anything_ to break the curse” he said, “I would.”

The four friends looked at him with surprise. Ignis looked at them, one by one, still serious.  
After some moments, the four shared glances between themselves. Prompto was first to go reach for him, followed closely by Iris. Luna followed behind, and, a bit slower, Noctis did. Ignis looked at them as they went close to him and pressed themselves to him against the torso. Prompto, with arms, laid them on him in a clear sight of a hug. He could not round Ignis as his arms were still too small for a man the size of Ignis, but the intention was clear. Iris cuddled against the outside of his thigh, and Luna rested her head on one of his sides. Noctis, last to arrive, at first only awkwardly patted him on the knee…but, as if he could not resist, he went closer and only rested his back to Ignis’ tummy, at a side of Prompto, maybe a bit too proud, too shy and too embarrassed to hug. 

Ignis did not mind and only smiled down at them. The Scientia were not too much of the physical intimate kind, but he gently hugged them all back.  
It was a bitter hug of realization that they were entirely powerless against the curse and that, one day, the furniture would have to leave life as they knew it. 

Not realizing that the rose had only begun to glow when Ignis stood close to it.


	6. Who Could Ever Learn To Love a Beast?

Ignis let an entire week pass by before he could even think about freely roam around the castle without fear. 

The beast had been very upset for his intrusion on the West Wing, so Ignis, despite the promise he did to the furniture to stop being rude with Gladiolus, did not feel safe to make any approach just yet. He went out of his room to go to the kitchen and sometimes a room where he found a small shelf with a few books, but he was constantly trying to avoid coming across the beast’s range of sight. Truth be told, it had been a mess: after three days in which Ignis felt safe to come out of his room, he had been avoiding the beast and the beast had been avoiding him.

Seen from an outsider’s perspective, it could be very dumb and awkward. Ignis would round a corner, and when he saw the beast’s tail disappearing through a hallway, he would gasp and hurry in the opposite direction. Sometimes, when both caught a small and quick glimpse of the other, both would hurry on disappearing through different ways, like it was a children’s game. They had not managed to look properly at one another, because every time a small glimpse was caught, they rushed away of each other, like one was the poison to the other, and the other was venom to the one, contagious even just through the gaze. 

After a week since the incident at the room of the rose, however, Ignis felt a bit safer: from the furniture, which spied for him, he knew when Gladiolus had finally cooled down. The beast had controlled his temper in previous days, so long Ignis did not cross ways with him, but it took him that week to be able to talk about the captive man without losing it. Acknowledging this, Ignis felt it would be alright to be close to Gladiolus without being assassinated. It was not like the man was planning to walk up to him and ask him to be friends; while locked on his free will in his room most of the time, he had thought a lot about the promise he had made to the furniture. The word ‘befriend’ had been there, but, if he analyzed well what they had talked, his real promise was that he was not going to be rude towards Gladiolus. Not being rude was not equivalent of becoming friends, so he did not have the obligation of befriending the beast or making a direct approach. He only had to…not upset him, if they ever faced each other again.

In this attitude and philosophy, Ignis had really not attempted to make a direct approach. He only made his usual journey to the kitchen, and, now that the week had passed, he had started to retake his exploration around the castle, except in a much smaller range with his room as the focus of the circle. He did not want the beast to think he was trying to poke his nose in the west wing again.  
As Ignis was out of his room more often in that third week of stay in the castle, stumbling across the beast was inevitable.  
Ignis had been in the company of the little cup of tea that he had befriended back in the tower; he was usually Iris’ companion, a little cup by the name of Talcott. From what Ignis had learned, he was the equivalent of a child, but not a baby. Ignis had not befriended him as much as his main three companions, but Talcott usually aided Iris on bringing him the food back at the tower, and he was usually there to see Ignis cook, bringing him the ingredients he asked for.

That day, Talcott had climbed onto his shoulder and Ignis had gone to explore a room on the fifth floor. He had been immersed in a conversation with the little cup to have heard the steps in the hallway. The room that Ignis had been exploring was another bed chamber, similar to his own, except without a bathroom. He had spent some minutes inside, looking at the things, his curiosity landing on the decoration, some things he had never seen before and trying to understand if it was decoration or a tool of sorts, and Talcott insisted to look in the wardrobe. Ignis was not too comfortable with that, but let the cup explore inside anyway while he waited, like an older brother watching his baby sibling on the playground and only waiting for the moment they grew bored and came back to him. After they had nothing else to look at, Ignis went to the outside.

Facing the doors as he closed them very softly, with the cup on a shoulder, Ignis smiled lightly at a joke Talcott delivered. The man, however, flinched when he heard a soft snort nearby.  
With the hands still on the door, Ignis stood still, frozen, feeling his heart pounding against his ribcage. Slowly, he turned the face a few inches, only enough for his eyes to look deeper into the hallway. Standing a couple yards from him, the beast was watching him, and doing nothing else, as if expecting from him to either disappear or turn entirely to face him. Considering he was not made to make himself disappear on his will, Ignis felt no other option but to face the beast. He swallowed and let go of the door, and, softly, he turned the body full for the front to face the beast.  
Ignis took some moments before he dared to look up. When he did, he found the beast, strangely, not frowning.

The man scanned Gladiolus a bit, trying not to look as if though he was holding a defensive position. The beast stood there in total silence, watching him, with the eyes slightly bigger than they really were. Ignis looked at him from head to feet and back to the eyes. He found Gladiolus doing the same; his eyes quickly went from Ignis’ face to his feet, to his waist, to his hair, back to his chest and returning to the eyes. Ignis could not help but stare away and awkwardly cross the arms, as if though that would hide him from the beast’s scanning eyes, feeling especially ridiculous that day; in the morning, among the clothes Noctis was still piling up in his room every day, Ignis had found a pair of elastic straps. He had never worn a pair of suspenders before, so he was, while dissimulating, rather excited with the idea. Noctis helped him to put them on correctly. 

He chose a wrong day for that, apparently. Not that it was wrong to wear them, but he had never done it before, and feeling the beast staring at him was almost like he was being judged as ridiculous. Ignis tried not to feel like that but he could not help it: Gladiolus kept staring for long, long seconds in entire silence. Ignis was not sure what he was scanning: the black footwear and pants, the white, long-sleeved shirt, the suspenders, or his face. It could as well be the fact that Ignis did not button the first button, exposing his neck, for comfort. He knew it did not look obscene or anything, but maybe the beast did not find it pleasant.  
The days gone, Ignis had managed to almost fully recover from his awful stay in the tower; he was still feeling weaker than in a normal life, but he had stopped feeling the need of napping during the day. His hair had come to be entirely clean and had recovered some brightness after his daily baths. The bags under his eyes had disappeared, and he had recovered most of the color of his skin now that he was not agonizing and exposed to the cold. He thought that he looked fine when he got dressed that morning, both in attire and on his own, so he could not explain why the beast looked at him as if though he was naked, and did not enjoy of the view.

When Ignis realized the beast could have just died a minute or two ago and the corpse stood frozen with the eyes full on him, he put the head an inch down but kept the eyes up, cheeks turning very, very slightly red in embarrassment; if the silence carried on like that, the awkward would become physical. But he also had nothing to say. Nothing nice, at least, and he had promised to stop being rude.  
“…uhm” Ignis recalled, staring away by not standing the way the beast looked at him without doing or saying anything. He moved one of his gloved hands up and hid his mouth when he cleared his throat, swallowing his pride. “…good…evening.”  
Gladiolus still did not reply. Ignis looked at him again, the blush on his cheeks deepening; nobody had ever stared at him with so much attention ever since that foreigner girl that had insisted on yelling at his face for an entire day to marry her. 

Not that Ignis felt shy when stared at, not too much. It was the embarrassment; the awkward. He swore that if the beast did not do or said anything soon, he would reach close only to slap him. Gladiolus blinked as if finally out of whatever he had been thinking.  
“…uh…” the beast let out, and Ignis did not know how to react; he had expected the beast to behave like always, give him a small glare, growl and walk away. Then again, last time they had seen each other _properly_ had been when the beast took him out of the cell and brought him to his room, so whatever Ignis could expect from him was uncertain. Ignis frowned at him but tried not to seem angered.  
“…can I…help you with…something?” Ignis questioned slowly. Every word felt off; every word felt strange, like somebody had rearranged the meanings of every word in the dictionary without him knowing; he knew what he was saying, but it felt like he was saying something else, something that he should not. He was not…supposed to be good to the beast. But there he was, keeping a word up and faking to be in service like he would be to a friend.

He watched Gladiolus blink again, eyes still wide. The beast looked at him a few more moments in silence, before leaning the head slightly down, squinting the eyes. Ignis stayed still and tried not to stare away while the beast looked at him from head to feet and back to the eyes for like the fifth time. They stayed in silence, and before Ignis’ patience broke, the beast stood straight again and looked away.  
“No” Gladiolus said dryly.  
“…fine” Ignis swallowed his pride again, containing a rude comeback that almost slipped past his tongue. He cleared his throat again. “Have…a good…” despite his great effort, he did not manage to complete that. “Excuse me.”  
Ignis stared away and started walking in the direction of Gladiolus, but ignoring him as he passed by and left through the hallway. The beast did not show any motion or reaction when the man walked past him, side by side.

The human took some moments into the hallway before his shoulders managed to relax and he contained a sigh in his chest: well, despite the strange behavior, the beast did not seem to want to eat his face anymore, so that was a good sign. He kept going without looking back, and the tea cup, still on his shoulder, turned to look at him again.  
“That was strange, mister Ignis” Talcott said, not understanding. “What was that?”  
“I don’t know” Ignis admitted, not stopping to walk and being grateful that the little cup was there with him; he did not mind opening up to the usual trio, but as Talcott was a child (on the mind, at least), it was very easy to talk with him about what he thought and felt, even if having to word things differently or not as explicitly.  
“It was so strange; he didn’t say or do anything” the tea cup insisted with a little, confused but amused smile. “Why?”  
Ignis shrugged, careful so that he did not make Talcott lose balance on him, still not stopping in his way to nowhere at all, so long it was far away of Gladiolus.

“He was probably thinking that I look ridiculous and how much he wishes to shove me into a trash container.”

\--

“I said he’s attractive, not that I’m marrying him.”  
Gladio groaned and rolled the eyes, reaching for a pillow to press it against his head, but it was too small to cover it whole. Besides, even if he had been able to shut away the sounds, he could still feel the furniture jumping on his back. He heard Prompto laughing behind him.  
“Gladio liked Ignis, Gladio liked Ignis!” the candelabra was singing to make fun of him, jumping onto his make from side to side, with Iris giggling and jumping on him too. “Gladio liked-”  
“Stop it, you two” the beast groaned again and took away the pillow, rolling over himself careful enough not to make his friends be in danger but also really wanting to push them off. The candelabra and the tea pot fell to the bed, and Gladio, with a little chuckle of triumph, stood up from it. “I never said I liked him.”

“You totally did” Prompto cheered. “You said _’Oh, I had no idea he was so attractive’_ ; dude, that totally means you liked him.”  
“Prompto, you, idiot” Gladio leaned down for his face to be closer to that of the candelabra’s, watching him unamused. “There’s a huge difference between admitting somebody’s looks are attractive and actually ‘liking’ them.”  
“Eh, I wish I could have seen his face when he saw Ignis” Noctis said with a smirk as he made his way up the bed on his own, Prompto helping him as soon as he was in his reach. “See, I told you. The guy’s totally his type.”  
“You should have seen, buddy” Prompto laughed, looking at the clock. “Gladio was frozen for like an entire hour.”  
“You’re an exaggerated drama queen, Prompto” Gladio said and used a finger to push the candelabra, and even though it was softly, it made him lose balance and he fell to the bed face-down, with a little yelp. “It was only a few minutes. How did you expect me to not freeze? I’m really hesitating if it’s the same man that entered the castle three weeks ago. He looked so…”

“Gorgeous?” Prompto suggested.  
“Handsome?” Iris this time.  
“Totally your type?” Noctis tried, eyes half closed and eyebrows dancing.  
“Different” Gladio rolled the eyes again. “Different, geez. You’re like babies; I can’t say he’s attractive without you three thinking that I like him. It’s completely different” he stayed quiet some moments, coming down again to sit on the bed at a side of his friends. It took him some moments before speaking again. “…but, yeah, he looked quite…attractive. He was so…dirty and messed when I last saw him, I had no idea he looked like that when in normal conditions. He looks nothing alike.”  
“I was surprised with the hair change” Prompto said. “Like, he had it all messed and all over his face back in the tower, but the way it sticks upwards” he laughed shortly, “it fits him!”  
“And it looked very soft” Gladio said with a little smile. “And the color is very pretty. But if it’s about colors; dude” the shield, behaving like a teenage girl rather than the huge, imposing beast he was, looked down at the candelabra with silly, happy eyes, “ _his eyes_.”

“I haven’t paid attention to them” Iris said. “I get distracted with the glasses.”  
“They’re green” Noctis mentioned, before he, again, tried to rush an explanation. “Like, the eyes, not the glasses. I mean, I have looked and- I am not- they’re green, I think.”  
“Buddy, and what about his face?” Prompto questioned the shield not because he wanted to talk about this, but because he wanted to see if Gladio wanted to do it.  
“He’s very good-looking, I admit it” Gladio nodded. “The shape of his face, the features…he’s pretty. Not as in girl-pretty. Pretty as in…” he stopped for a moment. At first, he seemed to be looking for the accurate word, but he eventually frowned and stared away. “Why does this matter, anyway?”  
“I personally think he looks very handsome in suspenders” Iris commented as if casually, and while the other furniture agreed, Gladio put a hand to his face with a groan.  
“Shiva, yes” he muttered. The furniture friends shared glances and tiny laughs. “And his collarbones, my Astrals, did you see them? Those really did kill me.”

“See, you totally liked him” Prompto insisted, and Gladio turned to look at him again.  
“Prompto, you little shit” he growled. “I already told you: there’s a very big difference between liking somebody’s looks, and liking somebody for who they are.”  
“But he’s a very good guy, too” Iris told him with a smile. “He’s very kind. See, today he wasn’t rude with you. He even wished you a good day.”  
“He didn’t” Gladio reminded her. “He looked as if though he wished to be anywhere else but there” having said that, none of the furniture replied and he only laid down on the bed, on his back, putting he hands behind his head and letting out a small sigh. His eyes travelled onto the ceiling for some moments, his gaze softened. “…I really had no idea…”

The last time Gladiolus had seen Ignis, the man was in the edge of starvation and dehydration, had not properly slept in two weeks, wore old, trashed clothing that hung from him, he was under three or four layers of dirt, had the hair messed, had come to be pale, and looking as if though he would pass out in any moment. He looked like a stray dog on two feet. He had not changed from night to morning, of course, but Gladio had not seen him properly in a whole week ever since that last look; he had seen him at the West Wing, of course, but he was too blinded by anger and the room was dark, and his instincts had been the ones acting over his rationality, so he could not get a proper glimpse of the man, or not one that he could recall on his full senses.

And ever since then, Gladio had been avoiding him like Ignis had been avoiding Gladio. Until that random meeting in a random hallway, where Ignis stood there, immaculate clean, the skin warm and not pale anymore, the eyes almost not tired anymore, the green eyes not tired, the green eyes, and the body strong, tall, elegant, gracious. He had the essence of a prince. The looks of a prince. He looked even more of a prince than Gladio remembered human Noctis ever did. Then again, Noctis was fifteen, and this guy was…he had no idea, he realized.  
“So” Noctis interrupted his thoughts. “Are you, like, crushing on him now or something?”  
“Not again” Gladio sighed and sat back up. “Listen, I really, really find him attractive. But I’m not crushing on him. I don’t like him. I don’t even trust him” he looked down at the furniture friends. “He’s good-looking, but beauty doesn’t take from anyone the rude, jerky, uptight and asshole attitude.”

“But he’s not an ass” Iris said while hopping her way to the bedside table. “See, today he wasn’t rude or anything. He even wished you a good day” she repeated as if thinking Gladio had already forgotten about that.  
“He didn’t” Gladio, of course, did not, and raised an eyebrow. “Even if he had, it’s obvious he feels forced to behave good in front of me. He’s not kind because he’s a good person, he’s kind because he wants to get my trust so I can let him leave as if nothing happened” he snorted and stood up. “He’s not nice to me because he wants to. He’s trying to be nice, failing but trying, only for his own benefit.”  
“I don’t think that’s what happens” Prompto said. “I think he’d be nice by nature the entire time, if only…”  
“If only what, Prompto?” Gladio questioned, looking down at him.  
“…well” the candelabra stopped for a moment to laugh nervously. “It’s just…I think…I think he might be…it’s a supposition, but I think, maybe, perhaps, he may feel a bit…”  
“Scared” Noctis finished in his place. Gladio looked at his king and raised both eyebrows, as if not understanding and surprised, despite it being so obvious. “Maybe. We…we don’t know, but…yeah, I think.”

“You know, Gladio, I think that maybe he’s not as nice to you as he is to us because you scare him” Iris said carefully; even though Ignis had verbally admitted what they were saying, they found it better to handle it as if it was their own supposition, as if Ignis had never told them. They would not go from one’s room to the other’s just to carry the gossip of what one thought about the other and vice versa. However, they also could not leave things as they were; unless they made both realize that they were in a vicious circle of reactions, there would be no successful relationship, even if only as captor and hostage of sorts. If they were not to be friends, the least that the furniture friends wanted was for them to not knife each other’s eyes out as soon as they walked into the same room. Hence, they decided to, like they had opened up to Ignis and asked him to not be rude so Gladiolus would not be aggressive, talk with Gladio as well, without telling him about their visit to Ignis, and ask him to not be aggressive, so Ignis would not be rude. 

“Do I?” Gladio answered his sister’s statement with a little snort. “Good. That way he learns his goddamn place. Trying to boss me around like he bosses the kitchen” he gave a short and sarcastic laugh. “He’s right fearing me. I want it that way.”  
“Don’t be like that, Gladio” Prompto said and sat on the bed. “If you gave him a chance, you’d see he’s a very good guy. He’s kind and…well, he _is_ kinda uptight, but he’s good.”  
“He’s the sort of people you’d like” Noctis, at his side, added. “He’s smart and does things right, as in…it kind of looks like he’s very responsible. Serious, very serious, but subtly playful. And quiet, and reserved, and mature.”  
“So he’s the opposite of you two” Gladio told his friends on the bed, and chuckled when both started complaining to him, childishly. The shield only watched them do.

After a while, the tea pot called from her spot at the bedside table.  
“You know, Gladio, I think that you two would make a cute couple” she smiled sweetly up at her brother. “Knowing you and knowing him, you two would complement each other perfectly.”  
“Oh, come on” Gladio groaned and jerked his head at a side. “You can’t be serious.”  
“Totally” Iris nodded. “He really would be your perfect partner.”  
“Iris, look at me” Gladio said softly but clearly tense, with a small and sarcastic smile, turning again to the tea pot.  
“If you two were up for it and decided to be nice to each other, both would fall in love in one sigh” she stated very proudly and excited, hopping off the bedside table step by step on the opened drawer.  
“Iris, look at me” Gladio repeated, this time without the smile.  
“You only need to look at him to see he’s your soulmate” she insisted and hopped down the drawer until reaching the floor, looking up at her brother.  
“Iris-”  
“And you found him to be very handsome!” she cheered. “If one took the first step, it’d be straight into a wedding!”  
“Iris, _look at me!_ ”

The last came out as a roar. He yelled it out with strength enough for it to mix with a guttural roar, an angered frown upon his face and the claws showing but pointing at himself. The sudden aggressiveness pulled an immediate reaction from the tea pot; her eyes widened, and she rushed to hide behind the bedside table, with a tiny and involuntary whimper of fear. Even though Gladio’s attention was full on Iris, Prompto had reacted too and had come to stand in front of Noctis, eyes wide and body tense. Gladiolus did not notice and could not care less; the only thing that mattered in those moments was the fact that he had scared his little sister.  
Gladio, seeing Iris very carefully getting a sneak peek from behind the drawer but rushing to hide again when she found him still looking her way, closed the eyes. A pinch in his heart helped him to breathe in slowly and let it out softly, the eyes closed, focusing, focusing hard. After a few moments, the frown faded and he dropped his shoulders.

“…Iris…no, I’m sorry” Gladio muttered, the eyes softly closed and a hand moving up to hold his own head. He stayed quiet and felt his heart still pinching him inside as if it was a punishment for having roared at her. He sighed tremblingly and went down on his knees. “…Iris, little sister…I’m so sorry…come here.”  
Iris carefully took a look from her hideout again. It took her a few moments, but she eventually hopped from behind it and went closer to Gladio. The shield, down on his knees, offered his paws, resting on the floor. Everyone stayed quiet as the tea pot made her way across the distance that separated them and hopped onto his hands. Gladio, without standing up, brought her up and close.  
“I’m sorry, my flower” Gladio apologized in a whisper, using the intimate nickname he had called Iris ever since he could remember, even though he vaguely did it even if alone. He looked at her with hurt eyes and the heart shrinking inside his chest. “I didn’t mean to…”  
“That’s okay, big brother” Iris said as quietly, leaning against the side of Gladio’s head now that she was close enough for that, snuggling into the fur of his face. “It’s okay.”  
_It’s not and you know it_ , Gladio did not say aloud, and only nuzzled back at his sister.

He hated to lose control over himself; it was a constant reminder that the man he had once been was fading with every passing day, a slow death that was worse than being slashed by a sword; this was falling into oblivion, the slow process of forgetting who was himself. The only fight against the beast within hurt, but he had gotten used to it and had accepted there was nothing he could do about it. He could stand his slow death, but it ripped his heart into pieces to see his sister run away from him. He could be washed away by bestiality and he would face it…but his sister’s terror of him, that was something he could never ignore or accept. It was not right. He was supposed to be her protector, not the reason of her fear. Everyone was meant to abandon him but her. He would receive a thousand spells, but he could not stand the idea of losing his sister to his own monstrosity. 

Gladio leaned closer to press a dumb kiss the way he could to the top of his sister’s head, before carefully taking her up to place her gently on the bed, where Prompto and Noctis still awaited in total silence. Gladio left her there carefully and let out a sigh. He stayed down on his knees in front of the bed.  
“…but I’m serious” Gladio whispered. “Look at me.”  
He opened the arms slightly and he looked down at those, down at his body, and his eyes suddenly became shiny. None of his friends said anything.  
“Look at me” Gladio repeated very lowly, putting the arms down and unable to look up. “I’m hideous. I’m horrific. Do you expect someone to ever look at me and give me a chance?” he questioned, finally staring up to look, with a sad frown, at the three friends. “Not even as a romantic partner. Just a chance. Do you think somebody would ever walk up to me and pat me on the arm without pissing themselves in fear?” 

“…buddy” Prompto had started to call with worry.  
“A good guy or not, I don’t expect him to be nice to me, or to stop fearing” Gladio continued. He quieted for a moment. Letting out a sigh, he stood up to sit back at the edge of the bed. The furniture moved to a side to get a look of him again. Gladio stared down at his lap with a slight frown on his face. “A good couple? We’re not even the same species. Not anymore. He’s a man, and I’m…this” the last word was said as if though he was speaking about rotten food. “He’s a jerk, sure, but even if he wasn’t and even if he was kind to me…even if he could befriend me…look at him” he whispered. “He’s so gorgeous…” it did not sound like a compliment, but rather like a motif of sadness. “And I’m… _this_. Even if I wanted him, beauty doesn’t, won’t and can’t fit with monstrosity.”

Nobody said anything for quite a while. The room and everyone in it stayed in silence. After some more moments, Gladio’s shoulders raised as he took in a breath, and they dropped when he let it out.  
“…you know what, big guy?” Prompto started softly but smiling, trying to lift up the mood. “You can’t change your face…but you can change your attitude” said that, the candelabra hopped closer to the beast and onto his leg to reach his hands up and pat his face. “Be very nice to him. You’ll see, when you treat him good, he’s going to eventually grow trust that you won’t eat his face, and he’s going to be nice from the heart too.”  
“Every good action has its reaction” Noctis said as if it was about a quote, and he sat down with a lazy sigh. “I tell you, he’s rude only because you scare him. So if you show him you’re really not bad…” the clock shrugged. “He shouldn’t have any reason to fear if he sees you’re good and harmless. And if he’s not scared…”  
“He’s going to be nice towards you, too” Iris completed with a nod. “Try, Gladio. It’s going to make no harm.”

Gladiolus looked down at her some moments. His eyes went to the clock and the candelabra, but they always returned to his sister. He moved a hand up to scratch his neck, his claws burying into the fur, and a tiny thoughtful groan echoed in his throat. He put the hand down and sighed.  
“Fine” he muttered. However, he did not look angered as if he felt forced to do this, and, instead, there was a small gleam of hope and fear in his eyes. “I’ll…” he cleared his throat with some shyness. “I’ll be good to him.”

\--

Gladiolus had no idea on how to “treat him good”. He had decided to approach the man and tell him something, but he stopped every time he was about to walk out his room and looked at Iris. _’But what do I tell him?’_. Iris would give suggestions and Gladio would discard half of them for being “too creepy, I don’t know him yet, he’s going to freak out and think I want to molest him”. Iris had to think of more things, and he ended up receiving suggestions from a wardrobe, the candelabra, the tea pot, the clock, a coat rack and a flower vase. He would feel confident enough and try to go look for the man again, but he ended up finding that he did not memorize any of the thousands of options of things to tell him, so the cycle repeated itself.

It was until two days later that Gladio decided to approach him and do or say something ‘nice’, whatever that meant. It was midday when he was going through the castle asking the furniture if they had seen Ignis somewhere nearby. He was signed towards one of the main halls of the low level, to the left of the main entrance. Gladio was nearby, with Iris, Prompto, Noctis and Luna going behind him, the four excited to see the outcome of this first, successful meeting between the two. They were showering their friend with instructions; ‘don’t talk too loud’, ‘compliment him but be subtle’, ‘don’t frown’, ‘maybe offer him food’, ‘you could even offer to show him around the Citadel’, ‘try to not keep the chin too upwards’, ‘approach him slow’, among other endless indications that the friends considered appropriate so the meeting would be a triumph. And they all agreed on one same suggestion; ‘control your temper’.

Gladio had muttered lowly when they all reminded him that, but he could not deny they had reasons to say that. He knew that he had to stay calm if he wanted any of this to work out. He still did not expect somebody ‘as beautiful’ as the man taken hostage in the castle to ever like him as a friend, even less as something more, but he was really positive that they could at least work out a relationship of sorts where they did not want to murder each other. Maybe the furniture friends were right, Gladiolus thought while heading downstairs, and maybe both had just treated each other incorrectly so far, and maybe they only needed of a little push to pull through the bad times and, maybe, they really could connect in some way. Maybe. He hoped. He wished.

When Gladio was almost at the door, he heard something that made his eyebrows furrow in confusion: it was a click. The characteristic sound of a window when somebody…

Gladio, tensing up by knowing what that sound exactly was, entered the room as the door was already open. He, however, froze in there before properly walking inside.  
Ignis was standing in front of a window. An _opened_ window.  
The beast swallowed a gasp and he stared eye-widened at the man, who had yet not noticed him. Gladiolus caught movement at a side, so he roughly turned to look at a living bookshelf at his side, the guard of that room, and he gave her wide, chiding and angered eyes with the question clear in them. He had clearly ordered that all windows and doors remained locked and under watch, and he was seeing the man calm and cool in front of his obvious route of escape.  
“He’s so charming, I couldn’t say no” the shelf said with a little shrug, staring away. Gladio shook the head in small but quick movements as if not believing this had once been a palace guard, but he decided he could do nothing about it. She had unlocked the window already and the man was in front of it.

Gladio snorted and, frown on the face, he started getting close to Ignis with furious steps, forgetting everything about the encounter he had planned just five minutes before this. Noctis sighed and threw the head back: perfect timing, catching Ignis just a step of distance from breaking the promise the same day Gladiolus had decided to befriend him. They could not have found him in a better moment. The rest of his friends, nervous, stared and did not know what to do, and could only watch as Gladio got closer to Ignis.  
The man, when he heard the footsteps nearby him, looked over his shoulder and found the beast going straight to him. Ignis’ eyes widened slightly for a moment and he contained a gasp, and his body clearly tensed up.  
“May I know just exactly what you’re doing?” Gladio questioned with a firm and audible voice, but not loud enough to be a growl or a roar. Ignis did not turn fully to face him until the beast stopped and stood nearby. Ignis did turn to face him this time, so he was not giving his back to the window but rather a side, like Gladiolus. He looked up at the beast with a proud frown and kept the chin up.  
“I am not trying to escape, if that’s what you dare to believe” Ignis stated, tense. 

“Ah, no, I don’t think you’re trying to escape” Gladio told him with sarcasm, frowning with real anger and not taking his eyes off the human. In the distance, Prompto sighed and dropped the head; those two had entered that glare competition where both were too proud to be first to stare away. Fantastic beginning. “You only convinced the guard to open the big window of the low level, perfect for anyone to hop out and not die in the attempt.”  
“I am _not_ trying to escape, _sir_ ” the name was let out with obvious sarcasm, and Gladio growled at it. “I only asked to open the window because I need some fresh air. I ignore whether you breathe dust or bacteria, but personally I breathe oxygen; I have been more than three weeks in a place where none of the bloody windows are unlocked. I will suffocate. I need fresh air.”  
“Oh, yeah?” Gladio questioned, raising the voice much more angered at Ignis’ previous words. “I can hang you from a window at the ninth floor if you want, you’ll receive plenty of fresh air in there.”

“That would be the nicest thing you would have done for me so far” Ignis replied, closing the eyes and frowning deeper. Gladiolus was about to reply when, suddenly, the neigh of a horse interrupted them. Ignis gasped quietly and his reaction was immediate and obvious.  
As if forgetting about the beast, he turned to the window again and got closer to it. In a matter of a few moments, she appeared on the outside.  
“Nox!” Ignis called with worry rather than joy, and he reached half of his body and his hands out the window to start patting the mare’s forehead, hearing her neighing softly under his touch and enjoying of it. “Nox, what are you doing here?” Ignis questioned out of composure but not screaming either, watching the mare with wide eyes, half his body bent and on the other side of the window so he could get a proper hug of his life companion, who was currently snorting softly and happily, nuzzling at him.  
“Come the fuck back inside!” Gladio roared at him, and Ignis frowned again, keeping the hands on the mare’s head and patting her, hugging her. “It’s against my conditions!”  
“Of course not” the man complained, not letting go of the animal. “The conditions were that I couldn’t _go_ outside. See, I am _not_ outside.”

“Yes, you are!” Gladio roared at him again.  
“No, I’m not” Ignis insisted, still frowning and not letting go of the mare. “My feet are inside; that means that in theory I _am_ inside.”  
“I said come the fuck back insi-!” Gladio had started to roar, but he cut himself midways when the rational part of him realized that this fight was childish, senseless, and that the man actually had a point. He really wasn’t out. And acknowledging the man had the reason upset the beast even more. Gladio growled loudly and put his hands on his head, pulling from his hair and fighting hard not to lose it and smash the guy to the ground. 

“Nox, you precious thing” Ignis said softly and continued petting her. He had an entire week out of the tower and only then was he realizing that the mare had stayed there too. It was fault of those ‘bloody locked windows’; the mare had not heard him and had not approached him before, and he had not managed to see her either. It made him happy to know he had his childhood companion there, and he was suddenly not feeling as lonely. He, however, soon widened the eyes and broke slightly apart of her. “Wait a minute” he turned to look at Gladiolus with nervous eyes. “If she’s still here- did you- did you let my father go by feet!?”  
“Oh, yes, we’re very idiotic and had him walk all the way back” Gladiolus replied while rolling the eyes. “Of course not, you, dumbass. A carriage took him there.”  
Ignis seemed to have fired up at the sarcasm and insult, but he was also struck off guard at the news. He knew from his friends that his dad had gone back to town, but he had always assumed he had taken Nox with him; never had it crossed his head that the beast had been…’kind’ or at least smart enough to have a carriage take him. Ignis guessed it was a magic one, as well, like his friends. He hoped so. 

After a couple moments after he remembered he was angry, Ignis stared away and again to the mare, still petting her.  
“Nox, you’ve been here the whole time” he said more to himself than to her or Gladiolus. He looked again at the beast. “Have you fed her well? Is there anywhere she can rest and-?”  
“We’re not dumb, of course she’s treated fine” Gladiolus replied, cutting the man’s words midway, not in a roar but still in a firm voice. “Do you think she’d be standing there if we had let her starve?”  
“Well, at least it relieves me to know that you have taken proper care of my mare and had fed her well; it would have been very rude of you to cage her and let her die of hunger and thirst, wouldn’t it?” Ignis questioned while raising the eyebrows at his captor, and Gladiolus, understanding the indirect intention of his words, only groaned and stared away as if sick of the conversation, which was not a lie.  
“Enough pets for the horse, now pull yourself back inside or I’m going to-” Gladiolus breathed loudly, clearly containing himself from exploding. “I don’t trust you having half the body out the window. Come the fuck back inside.”

“You still think I’m trying to escape?” Ignis questioned him, an offended frown on his face.  
“What else could you be doing?” Gladiolus asked.  
“You know, it would actually be very easy for me in this situation” Ignis interrupted him, his arms still hugged to the mare but his frown directed to Gladiolus. “I have an opened window big enough so I can hop out, mount my mare, who’s exactly outside and under me, and take my leave.”  
“It sounds very easy, why don’t you do it, huh?” Gladiolus replied in a louder voice, as if whoever screamed the loudest would win the argue. “I’d like to see you try, you, little _shit_ , that would give me an excuse to rip you into pieces five minutes later.”  
“I wouldn’t ‘try’, I would succeed” Ignis informed him. “It would be dramatically easy for me, I assure you that; I have an entire strategy in my head in these moments” said that, the man gave a little kiss to the mare on the forehead before he pulled all his body back into the room, and he put the chin up towards the beast. “If I had wanted, I would have escaped days ago, gentleman. The castle is no threat to me. I have stayed in this kidnapping disguised as a treaty only because I am a man of word. So while it would be drastically easy for me to get out in these moments, I will not. I, unlike others, whether you believe it or not, I’m a righteous man and I have a promise to keep” he informed and took a step closer to Gladiolus, looking up at him and not minding the ache of the neck from having to keep it bent backwards. “I am personally offended you don’t trust despite the two weeks of the tower in which I did not complain and after this week in which I could have already left if I had wanted. So, if you excuse me, I will leave to my lovely, majestic room, my most appreciated ‘host’” said that, Ignis presented a reverence the way women would do, bending the knees gracefully to the sides and nodding the head once, even the hands motioning subtly as if though they held an invisible skirt. “Have a very nice day, I hope you enjoy of my goddamn captivity- oh, no, I meant to say, my precious, wonderful stay at your nice, clean and freshly ventilated lair. Excuse me, I meant to say, _home_.”

Once with that comment and lecture delivered and having presented the mocking reverence, Ignis faked a sarcastic smile at him and turned towards the door, starting to walk towards there with light but furious steps. Gladiolus stood on his place in front of the window and did not move. He followed Ignis with the gaze as the man stormed out of the room, never once looking over his shoulder or hesitating on his way.  
“Oh, you can go to your room if you please” Gladio yelled at him as the man did not stop walking and exited the room, turning and leaving. Gladio raised the voice even more to be heard even when Ignis had already left the room. “Or you can fucking go to _hell!_ ”  
“Ah, there is no need of concern; I am _already_ there!” he heard Ignis shouting back at him, and his furious but not rushed steps echoed until disappearing. 

Gladio tried to not explode in roars and screams, so he shut his teeth together and could only groan and let tiny sounds of anger out, pulling from his hair and the fingers tightening. Furious, he reached for a non-living chair and, to vent his anger out, he started destroying it, using his claws to tear the fabric apart after having kicked it across the room, growling and muttering loudly. He bit down on it to rip more of its parts, and the furniture only watched him with fearful eyes, all frozen and giving him his space.  
After a couple good minutes into destroying the chair and until one could not say it had once been a solid piece of furniture, Gladio let himself fall onto his back and he put his hands on his eyes, letting out a last roar. He stayed quiet and still, before his arms fell back at his sides and he sighed.  
Only then did Iris and friends feel safe enough to approach him quietly. Gladiolus sat up on his place among what was left of the chair and the stuffing, the tiny pieces of its tapestry, the disaster. It looked almost like the chair had exploded in its place.

Gladio still took some moments. He threw the head back and sighed as if tired and resting.  
“I swear to the Astrals” he growled lowly, closing the eyes and trying to stay calm, “I want to take that stupid head of his in my hands and count how many seconds the skull lasts before breaking like a goddamn egg.”  
“Too bad for you that you can’t do that” Noctis sighed. “You made a promise, too.”  
“Y-yeah; he’s keeping it and didn’t escape even when he could, so the fair thing is that you don’t…you don’t murder him, right?” Prompto asked with a tiny, slightly nervous laugh.  
“I only need a little excuse” Gladio said lowly without looking at them with a devilish smile; whether he was joking or not they did not know. The expression, however, soon changed to serious again. “But, whether I like it or not, I’m a man of word too. Can’t touch that fragile whiny princess” Gladio stood up and sighed. “Well, that is, unless he or his daddy break the promise. Then I should be free to throw him off the top of the tower whenever I please.”

“Y-you’re not serious, are you, buddy?” Prompto asked with another nervous laugh.  
“Well, it’s been almost a month and nobody’s come” Iris stated. “I think you should trust them. Had his dad spoken, he would have done it already and somebody would have already come, but, you see, it’s all been fine.”

Gladio stayed quiet and snorted softly, staring away. He looked at the window. The mare was still outside, patient, as if expecting for Ignis to come back again. He ignored her.  
“Whatever” he turned towards the door and started walking. “And somebody lock the goddamn window.”

\--

Caleo Scientia had not spoken about the castle, or what he had found inside.  
The living carriage dropped him nearby the entrance of Northern Insomnia, at a careful distance not to be seen, but close enough so the man would not have to walk too much.  
In a state of shock and working without being fully conscious of it, as if though he was watching everything on a screen and it was not himself, Caleo walked the rest of the way until entering town. It was almost night when he did, and nobody paid major attention to him, as if he was not important. That day, which would be the second night of his son in the castle, Scientia father walked into town and people passed by without noticing. Those who did would greet him and ask him how he had done at the fair. The man would look at them as if instead of a person there was a void in front of him, and he would continue his way towards his house.

That night would also be the third since Ignis left town without warning anyone, and the night he missed the reunion. Therefore, it was not Caleo’s arrival what later brought people to him, but rather Ignis’ absence. Everybody in town used to criticize Ignis for his extreme care for his father; he had not left home, had not married, had not earned a work of his own that was not aiding his uncle, all for his father. Ignis was the strange, obsessed man who bought the freshest from the market everyday instead of just buying enough stock for the week, like everybody else did, for his father. Ignis was the man who could ignore the most beautiful of girls and the most handsome of guys only because ‘my father waits for me home’.  
And, for the first time, he was not home with Caleo.

Besides, his absence at the town meeting had been obvious for everyone, even the ones who did not recall him fully by name. Mayor Scientia’s son was very usually missing, so it was equally very usual to see Ignis with the mayor to take notes and work as his second hand; the day of the meeting there was none of the Scientia sons. Some people freaked out; for Ignis to miss one of the reunions, a daemon had to have eaten him whole. But the kid was in town, some people assured; he would not leave without an explanation or without telling someone. So maybe he told one of his friends, some people guessed. He has friends? Some others questioned. When asked, Cindy could offer no explanation. Aranea could not either. The mayor had no idea where he was. Nobody knew, but they remembered they talked about Ignis; in both mocking and serious tones, people had assumed he could not cope with the exaggerated, desperate paranoia and simply left after his father to see if he was fine.

Ignis’ friends were not convinced about it, but they still took it as a chance, and expected for Caleo to come back. As soon as he would, Ignis had to come at his side.  
That was the reason both Cindy and Aranea knew something major had happened to Ignis when Caleo arrived home on his own.  
Scientia father had managed to reach his house, but he went down to his knees and passed out at the porch. The only sight of his house in front of him was too much for him to handle: that was the home he had built with sentiment with the love of his life and the son he had with her. And now there was only him. He had lost her unavoidably, and he now had lost his son in a worse way: avoidably. If only he had not left home on his own, if he had never built that goddamn machine, if he had never been stupid enough to get lost…  
_Ignis, you, idiot_ , he had cursed, _There’s no point in saving my life if it’s empty without you_.

The pain of realization made him drop at the stairs of the porch, and that was when people reached for him. It had been the neighbor’s daughter who had seen him and called for help. The neighbors took him with the doctor, like they knew Ignis liked it. They spent a while in there, but the doctor irremediably sent them to Healer Izunia no matter what Ignis preferred or not; the man was going to die unless they made use of magic. The Healer managed to save him, but Caleo did not wake up in two days. _Heartbreak_ , was Healer Izunia’s explanation to Cindy when she received the news the first night and asked what had happened to Scientia father. She was not sure if the Healer meant it in a literal or metaphorical way, but did not question him, and constantly visited to check up on Caleo. 

When he woke up, and after giving him hours and hours to clear his head from the shock he apparently was in, taking him to his house and taking care of him, Cid, the man of the workshop and, and Cindy both carefully started asking him what had happened.  
“Nothing” was all the answer Caleo would offer every time. Even though they knew that something was wrong and that they probably would mess up if they asked, they still could not leave it unanswered and would ask him about it.  
_Where is Ignis?_  
“He’s…not here” Caleo answered every time, and then he smiled; the eyes gleamed with tears, and the smile was completely empty. It looked as if though the man’s soul had been sucked from him and he only mechanically answered the same every time. “But he’s coming back. Soon. Don’t worry.”  
_What happened to him? Is he okay?_  
“He’s fine” the same answer every time he was asked through the days. “He’s okay. Please, don’t worry for him. Don’t look for him; he’s coming back, soon. Leave him alone.”  
_But why did he leave town? Why didn’t he come back with you?_  
“He’s got…business to do, somewhere else. In another town. And I…let him stay there.”

At the last answer, Caleo’s eyes would water but he would never end up crying, not in front of others. He seemed a bit shocked at first, but as days passed by, he looked more conscious of himself. But even then, the answers were always still the same. He never gave a precise date of when Ignis was coming back, or a precise description of what he was doing or why he had left all of a sudden, not even a small clue of where he could be. Healer Izunia had asked him to stay home for a week to rest, and he had done so. Cindy was constantly aiding him; mayor Scientia was ‘too busy’ to attend his brother, and his son was ‘too busy’ to attend his uncle. Despite all the work she had, Cindy considered Caleo’s health came first, and she offered to be with him most of the time to look after him. 

After that week, Caleo went back to work at one of the schools in town. Rumors had it that as soon as he saw a light-haired boy with glasses at the first row, he ended up breaking in tears and needing of medical help. He had, since then, not returned to the school. _I’m just distracted_ , he would excuse himself.

Two weeks and half with no sign of Ignis or the Scientia’s mare Nox, and with the rumor that Caleo did never even make it to the fair in first place.

After three weeks with no sign of Ignis, not even a letter, the doctor called for Cindy and told her his worries and his thoughts on the possibilities he could think about in a quick and non-professional analysis of his own. Cindy made sure to notify Aranea, who, after a week since Ignis went missing, had started to ask her daily if there were any news.  
“Doctor says that…the possible scenario he can think about is that Ignis took Nox and rode towards Northeastern Insomnia to see if he could catch up with Caleo” Cindy explained to the townsguard’s Captain, both in Cid’s workshop, while Cindy fixed the other woman’s lance. “He thinks that somewhere in the way, Caleo had an accident, or something or someone attacked him; that’s why the machine’s missing, it could have fallen somewhere or could have gotten destroyed in the middle of some battle, possibly with a daemon.”

Cindy stopped for a moment to take a breath, wiping some sweat off her forehead and turning the lance to start hammering the other side.  
“Ignis could have found him while he was under attack” she continued, “and could have tried to save him…and…” she sighed and took some moments before continuing her work. “There are two possibilities. If it was a person who attacked, Ignis could have been kidnapped, and they left Caleo behind believing he was already dead or that he wouldn’t last” she put the hammer at a side and moved the lance up to start checking it. Aranea stood in silence nearby her, arms crossed and eyes with full attention on the blonde. “And the second possibility is…”  
Both stayed quiet. Cindy, with the lance in hands, sighed and stared down with sadness.  
“…well, there’s a chance his body’s still somewhere, out there.”

Cindy offered the lance to the townsguard captain. Aranea thanked her at the time she accepted her weapon back, and she started checking it as well. Both stayed quiet some more moments.  
“Doctor says that, whatever the outcome was, Ignis kidnapped or…killed, whichever it was, it would explain why Mr. Scientia keeps giving those odd answers that really don’t say anything” she continued after a moment, crossing her arms over her chest. “Doctor thinks that the shock was way too big for Caleo; he probably saw…if Ignis was killed, the doctor thinks it’s possible that Caleo saw it happen in front of him, and that it probably was…very sadistic” she stared down again, uncomfortable and with a slight taste of nausea under her tongue; the images in her head were not pretty. “So, shocked and in trauma, it’s possible that Mr. Scientia’s head blocked itself from remembering; maybe he saw it happen, but the trauma was so great that he’s not allowing himself to remember” she stared up. “Psychology, doctor says. He says that the most probable is that Ignis is actually kidnapped or dead, and Mr. Scientia is too shocked to remember, and his mind keeps telling him that Ignis is fine and that he’s ‘coming back soon’; a mechanism of his brain to cope with whatever he could have seen happen to Ignis.”

Both women stayed quiet again. Eventually, Aranea nodded. After some moments, she sighed.  
“Thanks for the info and for taking care of Caleo, Cindy” the silver-haired said, with more seriousness than she would have usually spoken with. “I’ll count with you to continue with that; his health’s fragile, so he needs someone to look after him.”  
“That’s fine” Cindy said with a little groan as she stretched in her place. “What’re you gonna do, though? It sounds like you’re saying bye or something.”  
“I’m going on a small journey” Aranea replied and approached the exit of the workshop.  
“Where?” Cindy asked even though she already knew the answer. She saw the silver-haired stop at the door and turn to look at her.

Aranea made the lance dance in her hands for a couple seconds, before she put it in its place on her back.  
“Alive or a corpse, I’m going to go look for him.”


	7. Intruders & Daemons

The relationship between beast and man had a very poor development. 

It was not required to be smart or attentive; one only needed of a pair of eyes or ears and to stand close whenever they interacted to realize. Despite how much they really did try each on their own to not be rude, there would always be a small detail, a stupid little thing which triggered any of them. A triggered one was enough for him to also upset the other, and the argue would start. One of the first fights had been a bit more understandable; Ignis asked, pretty much nicely (if compared to his usual behavior towards Gladiolus, that is), for a few moments on the outside so that he could be with his mare properly. Gladiolus had denied, and both ended up arguing and delivering sarcastic comments, insults and rude comebacks. 

The furniture friends could understand that one fight; there were reasons for Ignis to feel love for the mare, for him to feel lonely despite the company of the furniture, to want to just pet her. She was home to him. Being denied to see her could be understood as a motif of fighting. But, as days passed by, there had also been arguments that were just childish and unnecessary; one day, Noctis and Prompto watched the other two argue over a flower vase. There had not even been a main point of argue, it was only the two of them fighting over silly details; whether it was dirty or not, why it had to be on _this_ table and not _that_ table, why it mattered where the goddamn vase was, and they ended up arguing about each other’s attitude, before Ignis, like usual, stormed out and left to his room, sick of the conversation. Once, Iris and Talcott watched them argue about how Ignis wore his suspenders only as an excuse so that he could use them to gag Gladiolus when the latter would put his guard down. Ignis had delivered a sassy comeback that had made Iris herself open the eyes wide (and caused a guard by the corner to laugh lowly) and, of course, it fired Gladiolus up. Luckily enough, he had controlled himself enough not to throw the man off the top of the tower.

The furniture had really hoped that those two would have a nice relationship if they tried and gave up the pride, but, so far they managed to see after a month and half of Ignis’ stay in the castle, things simply did not work out. There was something that did not allow them to connect. _Maybe it’s the fact that Ignis’ staying here as a **hostage** , I don’t know, that would give me reasons to not want to befriend my captor, but maybe that’s just me_, Noctis had suggested once when Prompto questioned aloud why it was that things did not work. In some way, he had a point: no matter how hard Ignis tried to not be rude, the truth was that he had not had the warmest welcoming, and he was not in the castle on free will. Ignis had not said anything about it, but the furniture guessed, from Luna’s opinion, that it would be very natural of Ignis to behave on a defensive, passive-aggressive reaction the entire time: watching his situation close, and despite the month and two weeks in there, Ignis was living in a place he really did not know, with no other person nearby, taken from his normal life without a previous warning, without being mentally prepared for that. Of course he was scared in a way maybe the man himself did not notice.

Still, that did not give him reasons to constantly argue with Gladiolus. It could be justified, not supported; he sometimes reacted bad even to the smallest of details, and Gladio followed. It was almost like whoever argued more and louder would be the best out of the two; it was a dumb, childish competition to see who could be the most upset and angered. There was no point on it, but it was not like either beast or man could control it; as soon as they approached each other, something pressed a button or flipped a switch and the argue started before they even realized they were fighting. Every attempt of approach ended up bad, and every defeat took the hopes from the furniture friends; with each day, they doubted more and more if it was a good idea for those two to really try and be nice to each other. If they continued like this, they would one day end up murdering one another.  
Maybe the best was to put them apart, until Ignis could be freed. Maybe that was the healthiest.

One morning, Ignis was at the kitchen preparing breakfast. He constantly ordered the kitchen around so that it could stay clean. It had not been his conscious intention to boss everyone in there, but his perfectionist side really could not cope with a dirty work place. He was, like he once said, not used to not be in control, so it was only a natural behavior whenever he woke the furniture up at seven in the morning to clean around. Some had hated him at first, but after a week or two they got used to it, and had even started to keep the place clean even before Ignis could appear through the door. Sometimes he let the stove prepare his meals, but he mostly preferred to do it himself. There were not many ingredients either, but he guessed he could survive a couple months with humble dishes. And not that it was bread and water like back in the tower, the food was nice, but not as luxurious as he could have wanted from time to time. 

There was, like the most usual, a very bad timing for Gladiolus to arrive.  
Noctis knew Gladio from childhood, and he had believed that his shield would melt and die as soon as he walked in on Ignis cooking something. The problem was that, while Noctis was not wrong, he was thinking about a human Gladio in a normal situation. Never did it cross his head that it could go different with a beast Gladio constantly angered and in a bad mood (caused only because he woke up to remember he had to deal with an uptight hostage that constantly sassed him around). Maybe the beast form would not have been a problem, but what with the very bad relationship they had developed so far, both were fired up just at the sight of each other.  
So Gladio’s head did not stop in Ignis’ natural beauty and what could have been a lovely sight of the man careful and calm preparing his breakfast; instead, he only saw an enemy that he had and wanted to face.

Ignis had been talking with the tea cup Talcott and a few other furniture around, even though he was mostly quiet. He was giving his back to the main entrance of the kitchen, facing a countertop, currently cutting some carrots in precise slices. He had taken his sleeves up to his elbows, and he calmly moved his wrist with every cut he gave.  
That was how Gladio found him. They had not walked into each other at breakfast or dinner because Ignis had been careful on avoiding him; he had learned that, despite what he had assumed at first, Gladio was a morning person. He did not wake as early as Ignis himself did, but he was not a lazy monster that stayed in bed until two in the afternoon. So Ignis either rushed through breakfast before Gladio would appear only a few minutes later, or he waited for the beast to be done and leave. That day, however, Gladio woke up to the man in there as if timing it on purpose, and it was the first time they stumbled upon each other in the kitchen.

When Gladio stopped at the door and saw him, he frowned slightly and snorted softly. Prompto, who had been at the dining room talking with a former Kingsglaive, rolled the eyes and sighed in defeat, hiding his face in his hands; they had not done anything yet and Gladio was already upset. They were like children; they did not need a reason to argue other than apparently just the pleasure of screaming at each other. Out of all hobbies in the world, Prompto thought while watching, theirs was the most stupid and senseless.  
Ignis was still chopping the carrots very silently and calm when, suddenly, Gladio arrived and hurried to stand at his side as if popping out of nowhere, much closer than they tended to be.

“What are you doing now, princess?” the beast asked clearly suspecting something, adopting a casual pose at the man’s side, resting a hand on the counter and the other coming up to his waist, like a pair of friends in a random, morning conversation, in a pure state of sarcasm. Ignis, who had been taken off guard at the beast’s sudden approach, only stopped working and looked up at him, dissimulating his reflex flinch. Once he realized who was there and what he had been asked, he frowned and looked away, keeping the chin up and continuing with the carrots as if to prove he was not going to be shushed from there, like this was his territory.  
“Breakfast” he answered dryly, the frown present and hands still working.  
“Hm” Gladio’s throat echoed with the sound some moments, eyes still full on the man. “That’s pretty suspicious.”

“Oh yes, I plan to prepare a very dangerous salad that will dangerously allow me to make a dangerous, spiced escape” Ignis raised the eyebrows for a moment, and he put away the slices he had cut, only to replace them with a lettuce leaf that he soon started cutting as well. “You are very perceptive. My evil masterplan is ruined now. What a shame. Poor me.”  
“Since when do you prepare breakfast yourself, smartass?” Gladio questioned him, staying close as he was, and even though they were not touching each other, Ignis felt it like an invasion to his private space.  
“Since I was eight, I learned young” was Ignis’ response, and the beast snorted and rolled the eyes. “Will you tell me that this goes against your conditions as well? Does the kitchen count as ‘outside’ and therefore I am not allowed in here?” the man asked, starting to anger. “I believed that so long I was not outside I could wander on my free will. Of course, that is only a way of wording it, for we know my current status is not precisely that of ‘free’.”  
“Oh, no, you can go almost anywhere you want inside the castle” Gladiolus replied with as much sarcasm as the man was giving to him. “The kitchen’s fine, too.”

Said that, Gladio leaned closer to Ignis; this time, the man did move the head at a side, because now the beast was really invading his personal space. Ignis was too proud to step back, however, and he tried to stay in his place. He looked at Gladio, their faces only inches apart. The man tried for his eyes not to focus on the fangs, and he found himself staring into the pair of brown, almost amber eyes that looked very human now that he paid attention. But despite how human they could look like, that did not make them harmless, Ignis remembered, so he could only frown and glare back.  
“…how fortunate for you there are knives in the drawers” the beast murmured to him while hardening the glare. Ignis, without staring away despite wishing too, softened his grip on the utensil, and felt Gladio’s claws move away. “Isn’t it?”

Ignis stood still a couple of moments. He had done fine previous times on their glare competition, but the proximity made him look away this time. He pretended to Ignore Gladiolus and the beast moved back only a little, watching the man starting to chop the lettuce again. Only five small slices later, Ignis let go of the knife and turned to his side to face the beast, frowning and clearly angered.  
“If you believe I’m in the kitchen only to steal knives so that I can use them to try to murder you later, you are very mistaken, sir” Ignis told him. “You should inform yourself better in other people’s activities before assuming everything they do is a plot against you” he continued, and he took a cloth to clean his hands. “If I had wanted to do that, I would have done it the first time I came to this place” once said that, he threw the cloth to Gladio’s strong chest. “I thought maybe preparing breakfast for two would have made you trust a little more in me, but I see that, if you can’t trust my harmless use of the kitchen, you won’t trust I did not poison the food either.”

Gladio stood still, the eyes very subtly bigger than usual; he had seen Ignis upset, but this was the littlest time the man had stayed cool before losing it. Gladio wondered if he had touched a fragile thread.  
“Which would be a very intelligent idea on my side” Ignis continued, raising the eyebrows at him, taking a pair of leather gloves he kept in a pocket to start putting them back on again. “I would get rid of you very quickly without dirtying my hands. It sounds very pleasant and I’m considering it now, because, apparently, the only thing I do in my free time is plan ways to murder you” he took the knife again, and even though the furniture tensed up, Gladio did not. When Ignis pressed the knife to him on a side so the sharp part would do no harm to the beast, Gladio growled. “You want to believe I want to murder you with every step I give, then you are free to believe it. It is not my problem if you die out of paranoia.”  
“Breakfast for two” Gladio said in a mocking tone, watching as Ignis gave his back to him and started heading for a side door. “What am I, your pet?”  
“I am afraid I prefer smaller animals” Ignis replied without looking back, following the same unconscious patterned script of every fight and starting his storming out. “I am not one for wild dogs.”

“Yeah? That’s pretty obvious, you know” Gladio yelled at him, watching the last of Ignis’ steps before the man disappeared through the hallway. Which, like always, did not stop Gladio from answering loudly. “Of course you have a preference for small dogs, you little bitch!”  
“I can’t hear you!” Ignis’ yell echoed back at him, the beast growled and, like usual after their fights, he looked for something that was not animated so he could destroy it. This time he took a paper roll and started ripping it into pieces like a child in tantrum. 

Iris, on a countertop, only sighed and rolled the eyes.

\------------

That was, however, the first time Gladio felt guilt enough to feel he really had to apologize.  
He had thought that when Ignis said he was preparing breakfast for two, it had been the man’s attempt on causing pity in the beast and see if that way Gladio felt moved and let him escape. It turned out to be that Gladio did not know the human well: the least Ignis would look for or wanted in life was other people’s pity. If Gladio did not acknowledge that fact with those words, he at least knew that that had not been the man’s intention when Iris confirmed the truth; Ignis had wanted to, if not take breakfast together, at least prepare that of the beast’s. And Gladio rejected him even before he could be offered anything. 

Prompto and Noctis were very positive when they insisted on Ignis to cook something for Gladio: the furniture, Ignis found out, could not eat. He did not expect otherwise, but hearing it aloud made him feel a bit strange. He wondered if those people ate something at all, or if they needed of something to stay alive. Either way, none of his new friends could taste his cooking, but they all excitedly looked at every dish Ignis cooked as if though every one of them would be the first they ever saw in their lives. While the stove did not do a terrible job, it passed as only acceptable; Ignis, however, made it excellently. The stove, once the royal chef of the Citadel, was not bad at his job. He only had no arms, not as he used to when he was human, and he had to work on himself, so things became complicated. The dishes Gladiolus was used to were, while abundant, plain, dull and badly cut.

That was why, after 5 years of not seeing a proper culinary work, the furniture all looked so amazed and so excitedly to the dishes Ignis prepared; the man not only did a wonderful job cooking, he also arranged everything in such a perfect order it could be sickening (in a very positive way); all the slices he made looked like they had millimetric accuracy, he took his time to arrange the dish, separate what needed to be separate, decorate what needed to be decorated. He was given very little material to work with, but that was enough for him to do excellent works. After a couple days, Prompto had suggested maybe Ignis could cook something for Gladio; the man refused, but the candelabra and Noctis insisted every once in a while. Noctis mostly, even though if more subtly; he knew Gladiolus really well, so he knew that, for someone to make an easy way to his heart, they needed to first conquer his stomach. Gladio did not even need to be a beast for that, Noctis knew. 

That morning, Ignis woke up feeling a bit guilty; he was aware he was not doing well with his promise of trying to be nice with Gladio. He spent half an hour ranting to Iris on how it was not his fault at all and that the beast was a terrible jerk, before coming to feel he somehow owed his life in some way to his furniture friends, and decided to put an end to the constant fighting. He, that morning, announced to his friends he was going to cook for Gladiolus, and went to the kitchen. Everybody had been excited about the idea, and the hopes of a future, blossoming friendship between them rocketed to the skies again. And the hopes were broken again when Gladio massively messed up. 

Maybe Ignis would not have had a reason to react as angrily as he did in normal circumstances, but 1. He was tired of Gladiolus finding _everything_ he did as suspicious, 2. He was angered at his sole presence because of the weeks they had spent arguing daily and 3. It was a heart-born decision, the one of making breakfast for him. He had really decided it himself, he had really _wanted_ and for the first time had really, really tried to be nice to Gladiolus, and the first thing the beast did was to start arguing and suspecting of him again before even a goddamn Hello. 

Ignis felt offended for being rejected even before he could make the verbal offer and when he was already midway through the cooking process. One could not be nice without being judged and insulted, he had thought afterwards.  
When he had left and once Gladio had cooled down, hours later when he had taken breakfast and had left already, Iris followed him and told him what had really happened, and how Gladio did have the fault this time: if his sister said so, it could not be a lie. It could, knowing how childishly she could behave at times, but this seemed to be totally true.  
Gladio had rejected the man he had tried to befriend. 

He really had not had the intention to offend him, but he, to some point, feared Ignis; not with the kind of fear to make him tremble and back away, but rather some fear that made him stay with his guard up and suspect of the man at every moment. Gladio said it once and he still kept his words: Ignis had the smartest and slyest eyes Gladiolus had ever seen before. The man was not a random town boy. He was agile, he had skills, and even though there was not a great chance to see how far his abilities could go, Gladiolus had noticed from the first fight they had on the tower that Ignis knew _perfectly_ what he was doing. He was not a random boy throwing daggers in the dark; every movement he did, everything screamed he had trained for years by now. And he was good. Watching Ignis holding a knife would, of course, make Gladiolus distrust.

Hearing from the usual three friends what Ignis’ intentions had really been, Gladio felt guilty. He had felt like that before, after some of the argues they would have had, but it never passed from “I should not have said that” along a sigh and a shrug to ignore whatever had happened. This time, besides admitting he had been wrong, Gladio felt he needed to do something to repair the harm he caused. _But how?_ , Gladio questioned his little sister with sad, nervous eyes. Like every time he tried to be nice to Ignis, Gladio felt nervous and ended up requiring of his sister’s and their friends’ help and advice.  
Gladiolus looked like a tough beast, but in reality he was feeling insecure when dealing with Ignis.  
He was the first person Gladio ever treated with in five years. He used to be an outgoing person when he was a human, but all those years on his own plus the total awareness of his current look stressed him; he did not acknowledge it word by word, but deep inside, he really cared about what Ignis thought about him.  
Besides, the guy was so handsome…

Take dinner together.  
That had been the idea the furniture friends had come up with. They had come to think that maybe it was best to put them apart of each other due to the poor development they had had, but if Ignis woke up that morning with the need to start working things out and Gladio was currently feeling guilty enough to go apologize, that meant there could be a chance. At first the shield of the king hesitated and tried to change the subject and offered apologizing in other ways (“what about I tell him he looks less stupid than yesterday?”), but he ended up giving in. He acted like he was doing this against his own will and that he found it ridiculous and childish, but Iris had known him all of her life: he was feeling _shy_. 

Gladio, carrying with the usual trio, went from his room to Ignis’ while the furniture advised him on how to treat him well during dinner: what to say, what to not say, how to not scare him, how he should do at the table if Ignis did agree to sitting together rather than just eat the same in different rooms, what to do and what not to do if Ignis did not agree to that, among many other things. Iris was the one with the best advice; Noctis had the worst ones, but he sometimes delivered a smart comment or two. Prompto was in between, though his tendency was to be as bad as Noctis in this. 

Once in front of Ignis’ door, Gladio put the friends down.  
“Now call him” Iris suggested with a smile, “and ask him for dinner. It’s easy. He’s going to thank that you call him by the name; you’ve never done so before.”  
Gladio looked at her with some dissimulated nerves and nodded. His reflex, without him thinking clearly what he was doing, was to move a hand up to adjust the collar of his shirt as if though he had a tie, even when there was nothing there. Iris rolled the eyes, smiling sweetly, and the trio backed off some steps to watch the interaction.  
Gladio, after a few moments, knocked at the door. A bit too loudly.  
“Ignis, you’ll have dinner with me!” Gladio half-roared at the door. Maybe his intention was to control himself and be firm, but, as big as he was, it could be interpreted as mere aggression. The trio sighed in defeat; well, he did as he was told and _had_ called him by his name and had asked for dinner. It just was in a very wrong way.

“I’d rather not, thank you” the answer from the man in the room. Definitely not a good start. The trio looked at Gladio with some worry; of course, being rejected fired him up, and he was already frowning, angrily looking at the door.  
“It’s not a request!” he yelled, his back curving as if he was prepared to attack.  
“It’s a dinner, I heard fine” Ignis replied from the inside. “The answer’s still no.”  
Gladiolus seemed to have an answer, but instead he only snorted loudly and contained all he had to say, making his throat and mouth do strange sounds, his paws moving up to his head. The trio only sighed or looked away, not impressed at all from the outcome of this.  
“Calm down, Gladio” Iris was the first to say. “There’s no need to react like this.”  
“It’s just that he’s…so…” Gladio started whispering-shouting at her, eyes wide and the frown deep on him. He stopped for a moment to swallow more of his exploding words, the chest heaving. “…uptight, so difficult!”

“It’s not the end of the world” Prompto joined with a smile that almost seemed apologetic. “Let’s go, Big Guy, maybe tomorrow he’ll agree.”  
“Eh” Noctis let out and looked away, but he offered no explanation to his reaction.  
“Fine then!” Gladio roared at the door. “Just don’t come whining to me about how you’re starving; I offered and you rejected, it’s not my fault if you fucking starve!”  
“Why, you’re so kind; thank you for worrying so much for me!” Ignis replied from inside the room, his voice lightly muffled; the walls and doors were all thick enough to swallow most of sounds, so he had to raise the voice. “Do not worry, my dear host, I would hate to take you from sleeping if you stress too much over it.”  
“I’ll give _you_ reasons to stress” Gladio growled at the door, snorted loudly at it, and it was him who stormed out this time, giving his back to the trio, forgetting about them, and making his way across the hallway in direction to the main staircase.

The furniture stayed there in total silence. They shared little glances between them, all of them agreeing on the same matter without needing to recall it aloud. They, in silence, headed to Ignis’ bedroom and knocked.  
Only after they told Ignis that Gladio was not there, he opened the door and let them in.  
Some moments later and after a few minutes into some conversation with the furniture, he was already ranting to them about the situation.

“Dinner with him!” he called with a frown, letting himself sit on the bed. “Does he really think this is a host and guest party? I am _kidnapped_ , and he offers to take dinner together. Wow. Impertinence has no limits.”

“How insolent, that little shit” Gladio would be telling them an hour later once he had taken dinner and had returned to his room. “I screwed up but I’m trying to fix it, right? What does he think? That just because he’s hostage I want him tied up and chained to a wall? Geez, he could stop being so paranoid and just understand I can’t let him out for good reasons he wouldn’t understand, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make himself feel at home. It’s not me being senselessly cruel!”

“I have never, in twenty-two years of life” Ignis would have said an hour before, throwing the arms up, walking in circles in his room, “ _never_ been as bothered by anyone as I am with him. In twenty-bloody-two years of life I’ve had to deal with a cousin that prefers to gag on cheap beer rather than attend his duties, an uncle that doesn’t give a single crap for his brother, an entire goddamn town criticizing me for every step I take and constantly complaining to me things that should be delivered to my uncle and not I, and with hundreds of little kids that just won’t open the goddamn math book no matter how hard you try, and no one, none of those people, have _ever_ made me lose my composure like ‘Gladiolus’ is doing!”

“He angers me so much, I don’t remember to have ever hated someone like this ever before in my entire life” Gladiolus, as he walked in circles in his room. “Bossing around the kitchen like he’s got any rights on it, that commoner, does he think he can just come to the castle and treat the Lucis Caelum household like it’s nothing!? I know he doesn’t know where and who he’s with, but that angers me even more; if he remembered he’d be bowing and kissing the floor where I step- I am royalty, he’s not, no matter how much of a prince he looks and behaves like.”

“He’s the biggest jerk I have ever known in my entire life” Ignis, at the edge of pulling from his hair. “I _tried_ , alright? I tried to be nice to him, but he insists on blaming me for trying to escape- it’s been almost a month and two weeks, a bloody fucking month and he still thinks I’m plotting to murder him. You know what? You can’t be good to someone that doesn’t want to be treated good. I’ll tell you what it is that he wants; he wants a little, the smallest of excuses to murder me; why must I insist on being nice to someone that wants to smash my brain into the floor?”

“He’s such an idiot, I’ve never known someone more…”  
“Irritating.”  
“Frustrating.”  
“And, you know what? I hope to see him as little as possible from now on-“ while tossing his gloves at a side.  
“-until I forget he’s even around-” roughly undressing to sleep.  
“-I wish to not see him or anything related to him anymore from now on-”  
“-I won’t even breathe the same air than he does from now on-”  
“-I won’t talk to him again-”  
“-won’t ‘be nice’ to him again-”  
“-won’t ever look at him again-”

“And I will _not_ apologize to him!” both ended with the same words.  


Ignis, after being done, turned off the flame of the lamp, dived into the bedsheets, hid under them and, tense to the point it was ridiculous, he sarcastically pretended to be asleep so the furniture friends would not bother on trying to talk more with him.  
Gladiolus, when he was done, turned off the flame of the lamp, sat on the bed so roughly he almost broke it, and gave his back to the furniture so they would understand he was not hearing or replying anymore.

Noctis, Prompto, Luna and Iris said nothing in both cases. They only glanced at each other and quietly made their way out of the bedrooms.  
It was after having visited both men that the furniture decided it.  
It was best off to give up on trying for them to be friends, and put them apart of each other.

\--------------

A month and three weeks since Ignis had left Northern Insomnia.  
From which the latest two weeks were about the furniture friends constantly going around to make sure they would not walk on in each other, on changing their routes if they were about to, of trying for them not to murder one another. They had seen each other, but there had been no major fights. They had each sworn to never even see the other ever again, but sometimes it was inevitable. Like something attracted them together, and despite the furniture’s attempts on subtly putting them apart, they sometimes ended up in the same room. And it was no different than before; the glare competition, the argue, insults, constant comebacks, Ignis storming out and away and Gladiolus destroying something. The fights had not come to cool down, but had not heated up either. The only difference was that they had stopped trying to be nice to each other, and only argued with any excuse that could come.

It was then, a month and three weeks since Ignis went missing, when it happened.

Ignis had at first lost his curiosity to explore around, but he had come to start doing it again. He had found he enjoyed of the castle and its walls in some way; putting apart his position as hostage, the building itself left him in awe of its beauty, the sensation of welcoming, the royal air to it. It almost felt (not looked; felt) like a king of old times had lived in there “only years ago and not centuries”, Ignis had said. Noctis had gone awkward and Prompto had laughed while hugging the clock, but they offered the man no explanation to that, and he did not question them either.

That day, he was going around some other rooms with Talcott. He had not seen much of Iris that day, and he had bid goodbye to Noctis when he left to look for Prompto, whom he had left even earlier that day. Luna had found him and had stayed with the man and the tea cup for a while, wandering around and engaging in conversation. By then, Ignis had found around 10 bed chambers, at least 25 offices of sorts, two halls, ten baths, and had been denied the access to four or five areas. The restrictions were those of Noctis and friends, not from the beast, so Ignis had accepted without coming to be upset. 

It was late in the afternoon when Luna said bye, and he was left alone with Talcott. The feathered duster left somewhere else, nowhere near to him. Ignis was on the fourth floor, checking some office of sorts out. He felt bad nosing into the papers, so he tended to not look. Very often. Sometimes curiosity won to him: he was raised with passion for books and history, and he was standing inside the castle that had once sheltered real _kings_. He was wearing clothes that could have belonged to some nobleman once. He was in the very heart of the Lucis history, he sometimes really could not help but check things out. While in the middle of his exploration and after an hour or so in there, the conversation with the little cup led back to what, whether Ignis admitted it or not, kept his mind busy at nights.

“So you’re leaving one day, mister Ignis?” Talcott asked him from his spot on the desk. Ignis was standing on a small step in front of a shelf, checking a book out. He did not turn to look at the cup, but he was suddenly not looking at the book anymore. He was not sure on how to treat that subject.  
“One day, I’ll have to” he said. “May I know why you’re asking, Talcott?”  
“Oh, uhm…it’s just…” the cup seemed to have turned shy. “I…well, I know you have a home somewhere else, but…I really like you, mister Ignis. You’re a good person. You treat me real nice. It almost feels like you should…” Talcott hesitated some moments, looking away. “Well, nothing. But…when you leave, you will visit sometimes, right?”  
Ignis stood quiet some moments. After some seconds, he closed the book and contained a sigh in his chest. He turned only enough to look at the little cup, currently watching him with his big, innocent child eyes. Ignis looked away for a moment and contained yet another sigh. He put the book back in its place and got off the step, turning to face Talcott better this time.

“…maybe” he lied and faked a tiny smile to him, leaning closer to the height of the cup on the desk. He watched Talcott smile widely.  
“That’s great!” the tea cup cheered. “When you do, I’ll-”

And it happened.

“There’s someone coming!” they were interrupted by the warning yell of a wardrobe that passed by the hallway, running. Ignis and Talcott turned to the door when the wardrobe stood there and looked at them. “There’s people coming here! To the castle! There’s people coming, we need to hide!”  
“People?” Talcott asked, at the time Ignis’ heart stopped inside him and his eyes went wide. He repeated the cup’s question in a whisper.  
“We all need to hide, do as we planned and pretend we’re not here, no matter what happens!” the wardrobe continued and left through the hallway, yelling the warning and instructions.

Ignis stood there, frozen, eyes wide and face going pale; people coming to the castle. His dad…had his father broken the promise, despite knowing that it put Ignis in danger by allowing…?  
The young Scientia’s eyes widened and his heart skipped at least four beats in a row, in realization. He stood up and his body tensed immediately while his head rushed into question after question, his eyes immediately analyzing everything, his brain trying to come up with something to do, how to react, but the situation was unexpected. He hurried out of the room; Talcott followed behind, calling for him but being ignored. The man, while not running, hurried through the hallway and reached one of the windows. He could hear all over the castle voices yelling the warning. When he got to the window, he found some other furniture standing there and looking at the outside.  
“Who’s coming?” Ignis questioned, eyes still wide in nerves.  
“It’s a group of at least ten people, and they have weapons” a drawer informed him. “They’re coming straight in here; they’re not passing by, they’re coming straight to the Citadel!”  
“What do we do?” Ignis asked, even though he did not seem to be talking to anyone but himself. 

He left through a staircase and he, in panic, tried to look for someone. Who, that was a question he could not answer himself. The furniture still went on panic, and suddenly there was a yell from somewhere upstairs.  
“They’re at the doors! They broke the locks! Everybody, hurry, hurry, they’re at the doors!”  
Ignis’ heart was at nothing of breaking through his ribcage or to get an attack. His head throbbed and felt ten times heavier on him. This was not right; his father would not have…he could not have spoken. People were not supposed to have come here. Ignis had had the complete, total security that his father was not going to say anything about it. This was the rupture of the promise, this was the explicit rupture of it, and it was making Ignis sweat coldly and tense: _You cannot harm me so long my father does not speak_.  
Gladiolus, now, had permission.

In panic, he hid in the first room he found now that there was no time and everybody had come to stay still, freeze and go completely mute. Despite the panic, he could still think and try to make a strategy: if the instructions delivered all across the castle were to stay still and pretend nobody was there, then Gladiolus was not planning to attack. He would hide, as well. Somewhere in the castle, somewhere that Ignis did not know, the beast had hidden and was not planning to move. Gladiolus was locked in a room and had no intentions of coming out.  
That was one point to Ignis’ favor, but also two against him: if Gladiolus was hidden, the hallways were free for Ignis to rush downstairs and escape with whoever had arrived…but just like Gladiolus could be hidden at the top of the tower, he could have hidden in a room on the low level. Which meant that if Ignis did rush downstairs and Gladiolus was there, the beast could easily corner him and the other people and kill them all without major troubles. He was risking not only himself, but also whoever was down there.

Ignis’ eyes travelled across the room he was hidden in as if the answer would be somewhere. He could not rush downstairs. So he simply waited there, his back pressed to the wall at a side of the hole that was entrance without door, his breath shallow and cold sweat starting to damp his forehead.  
Suddenly, despite being on the third floor, he heard the main doors opening: the deep silence in a huge “abandoned” structure made the sound echo from down there to his spot. He could not, however, hear the steps, and that did not allow him to count how many people had come.  
He waited in total silence. He waited in what felt the longest ten minutes of his life. The heaviest awaiting, in which his heart insisted to bang into his chest like a scared rabbit, the legs trembling and the breath shallow, as if he was at the edge of death.

Who was it? Who could have come? Why? Who? _Who?_

Fifteen minutes later, he heard voices.  
“…nothing over here either. Go check that way.”  
“Captain, nothing over here” a more distant voice. “We’re heading to the north wing.”  
“Careful” a voice that made Ignis’ heart stop and shrink so hard in his chest that he suffocated and bent lightly the body; the surprise had this time been so great that he had to move both hands up, one to cover his mouth and the other to grip at his chest like sometimes his father did when he was having troubles with his heart. That feminine, firm voice. His eyes widened and shock erased anything he could have in mind; he could only see in his head the silver hair, the sarcastic but honest smile, the black armor. The lance.  
Aranea.  
“What are you doing here? You two go east; I’ll go to the third floor. Biggs, what did you find?” Aranea.  
“Second level is clear” the voice was distant but clear. “We will do a second check.”  
“Send Wedge to search on the dungeons” Aranea.  
“Yes, Captain.”  
“I’ll go this way, third floor” Aranea.

Aranea. _Aranea_. Aranea was not supposed to be there. She was not supposed to have come. But that was the most logical thing Ignis could expect: he had trusted wholeheartedly that his father would not speak, but if he did, the most obvious would be this, that he had gone to Aranea. She was the strongest warrior they knew about. If Caleo had hoped for anyone to save Ignis, that was her.  
_Father, dear father_ Ignis cursed mentally, over and over, _not even she can face him. Not even her…_  
Unless…  
Ignis stayed quiet while subtle and very cautious steps sounded in the hallways nearby. His mind started working again.

Aranea. Alone, she would lose to Gladiolus, but it was her: she would give a tough and long fight, and even though she would fall, the beast would end up majorly injured. Ignis knew that it was dangerous to come from his hideout; the beast, angered, was extremely fierce. They would not have a chance against him…unless they teamed up. Ignis tried to machinate a strategy; he had no weapon, but Aranea most surely had an emergency one, a knife, a small sword, a dagger. She could have come with a second lance. If Ignis was fast enough, he could hurry to her, ask her for a weapon, and then both would be armed by the time Gladiolus appeared from his hideout and attacked. Armed and as the team they already were when facing daemons, both could stand a chance.  
Gladiolus down: doors opened. Doors opened, freedom.

It was dangerous. Ignis could be putting Aranea’s men in danger, and he could be risking her life as well. They could fail, maybe Gladiolus was stronger even when outnumbered. One false step and they would lose the fight. Ignis’s eyes travelled everywhere in the room, as if still trying to find the answer.  


The steps echoed in the hallway outside.

  
He could not do that; he could not betray his word and promise. But it was already broken; if he stayed quiet and let her go, Gladiolus would anyway come and tear him into pieces now that he had permission to do that.  


The steps echoed outside the room, behind him.

  
Ignis would not be betraying his word; he would only speed up the process. If he stayed and let her go, he would be putting Aranea and her men in total safety…but Gladiolus would kill him. If he called for her, everyone would be in danger…but they would have one chance to make it out alive.  


The steps were right outside the door.

  


And they stopped there.

Ignis’ eyes moved to his right, where the door was. He was sweating coldly and he fought with all his might to breath silently, but his chest insisted on swealling painfully, in anxiety. Poking inside, he could see the tip of the weapon and he had no doubts: it was _Aranea herself_ standing only a few feet from him. His friend was there, only three steps from him, only separated by a wall. It was her. There. In the castle. Inside the castle and only a few feet from him. She could come inside at any moment, in any second. Everything stayed quiet; Ignis was biting down on his lip so hard that after half a minute he felt the taste of blood on his tongue. He closed his eyes as well, and his knees trembled. He was going to give in and step into her sight range. She could see all the room but the side of the door, there where he was, the only blind place to her current spot.  
Only a few feet away…he could even hear her respiration. She was going to see him.  


After some moments, Aranea quietly stepped back, and started going away. Ignis let go of his lip and he took in a trembling gasp which he tried to make silent; for only one second, Aranea’s steps stopped, and Ignis’ heart shrank inside him: maybe she heard. Maybe she would come back and find him. Maybe that was what Ignis wanted.  
He wanted her to find him.  
She retook her steps…away of the room.  
Ignis moved a hand up and felt the blood on his lip, hot. He stayed quiet and started rethinking. Aranea was walking away of him. He was letting go of his only opportunity. Going to her was putting both in danger with one chance to escape, and staying was a way to secure his lonely death with not a single chance to survive, but keeping her and her men in total safety.  
Ignis made his decision.

He got away of the wall without the need to step away of it, and he opened the mouth.  
Before he could call for her, he suddenly had a scarf in his mouth that took him by surprise; a coat rack behind him had gagged him with it. Ignis swallowed his undelivered yell and looked over his shoulder at the rack, which rounded him with an arm and held the scarf behind his head with the other. The rack shook the head negatively at him, but it did not seem to be threatening. It did not feel as if though he was being threatened…it almost felt like the rack tried to protect not only him but Aranea and the people invading the castle too. Ignis swallowed his words.  
But he accidentally took a step back.  
When he did, the rack turned to look at the door. The woman's steps had quieted again.  
She had heard.

Aranea turned to look back to the door she had just left behind. She squinted her eyes and looked in that direction. The grip on her lance grew firmer and she decided to go back there. With quiet but still audible steps, she started going back, very slowly, cautious. She had entered another hallway but was going back to the one she had left behind moments before. Slow, the breath and steps heavy but slow. She was prepared to face anything in this abandoned place, whether they had Ignis or not.  
She entered the previous hallway and faced the door again.  
“My Captain!”  
“Biggs, you idiot” Aranea called in a shouted whisper when she walked into the man, stopping in her place. “If I don’t see you, I’d have attacked you. I heard your steps and I thought…” she stopped for a moment and let out a sigh. “Report.”  
“The dungeons are all empty. Nobody found anything in any of the floors. We have gone through all the hallways, and so far there are no signs of life, no signs of anyone having ever been here in years…except the kitchen. It’s ridiculously clean. Someone either used it or at least cleaned it just these previous days.”

“Did you check in every corner, every drawer of the kitchen and its surroundings?” Aranea questioned. Currently holding the conversation at a side of the door, Ignis was listening to everything word by word, only steps away, literally standing at their side and being only separated by the wall behind him.  
“Everything in there, three times” Biggs informed. “But no…human behavior presented.”  
“…did you…check for any human rests? Anywhere, on dishes, in the trash, on a counter or drawer?”  
Ignis swallowed at her question: what was Aranea thinking of his whereabouts? Could she be thinking Ignis had been served for dinner at some point? He, for some reason, found that possibility to not be crazy or impossible. And the idea of it being so possible sickened him.  
“Yes, my Captain. There’s none. Only vegetables and some meat, but it’s animal, no human rests found” he informed. 

He heard his friend sigh, and his shoulders dropped at that; she sounded…sad. Ignis felt guilty and he shared the sadness in silence; he had only thought about his father…he had not considered that his friends could be mourning his absence too. Aranea, mostly…  
“While we have checked all the hallways, we didn’t check in every room, Captain” Biggs informed. “We could do it if you please. Maybe we’ll find something in the rooms.”  
“No” Aranea said still with sadness; the way he heard her, Ignis knew she was dissimulating, but he could feel her emotions through the wall. “If something had been smart enough to hide him here, we would have known already; we would have heard his voice or movements, we would have heard him struggling. Even just his respiration, with how quiet it is in here. And if he’s dead, it’s been almost months already; it would stink even through the doors.”

There was a long silence following that before another sad sigh from the townsguard captain.  
“There is no point in this. I believed maybe someone had profaned the castle to hide him, dead or alive, in here…but everything’s abandoned furniture and dust. The chances he or his body are here are low, and we’re only losing time. I apologize for bringing you all in here; I know it was only a fantasy.”  
“No, my Captain” Biggs hurried. “You’re not fantasizing at all. I insist we look in the rooms; maybe he’s tied up and can’t make any sound, so-”  
“I said, let’s leave” Aranea interrupted him. “Ignis would not have given up without a fight, and there’s no signs of it anywhere. And an animal or a daemon don’t have the malice of hiding corpses in abandoned buildings. Whatever happened to him, he fought with teeth and nails to the very last breath; whatever happened, there’s going to be a sign somewhere. Ignis does not die without fighting, and he does not die without leaving evidence of it everywhere around him. I said there’s no sign of him here; he is and was not here.”

Ignis stayed quiet and he had stopped to breathe without noticing. His body was untensed now, and his heart had slowed down to a normal pace, but it still beat heavy and loud inside him. It was obvious they were looking for him, but hearing it aloud was different. It made him feel guilt, and a heavy pressure, like he was a criminal about to be caught and not a hostage about to be saved. He felt grateful, but scared. His thoughts, however, now focused on the last of his friend's words; Aranea had snapped out at Biggs. She did not scream or lost composure, but her words had been slightly rushed if compared to her normal state, and they had been too many words for her. It made Ignis feel bad. Guilty. As if though having gone missing was his fault at all.  
“…alright, my Captain” he heard Biggs whisper, and he sounded uncomfortable. Odd. The words and orders he received themselves were no major reason for the man to have stayed quiet and to become as quiet and uncomfortable, so Ignis wondered if maybe, perhaps, Aranea could be crying, even if only one tear. _That_ would be reason for Biggs to be uncomfortable and taken off guard. “I will…we will…do a second search just in case and…then we’ll gather at the entrance…”  
“Yes” Ignis heard Aranea say lowly, and his heart shrank at the quiet, weak way she responded. This was not her at all. The strong, unmovable Aranea, whispering. She was not okay.

Ignis heard the pair of steps separating from each other and leaving the door of the room he was in behind. The coat rack did not let go of him until the steps could not be heard anymore. Only then, without a word, the rack freed him from the scarf and his grip on Ignis. The man, with the eyes down, stood still some moments. He looked back at the rack; it looked at him and denied with the head. The rack, however, did not seem any aggressive. If anything, it seemed to be very nervous, and tried to be wise. Ignis looked at it some moments before tremblingly containing a sigh, and he silently backed to press himself to the wall, and he let himself slip down on it until he was sat.  
Something must have driven him crazy, he thought, because he had made his choice again. He could not and would not call for her, no matter how much he wished for it…

Aranea and her men spent, since they entered, an hour looking into the castle. Ignis was not sure where Gladiolus could have hidden, but nobody ever called for reinforcements and there were no sounds of battle anywhere. He ignored if they checked in every single one of the rooms, but they did check the one he was in. Ignis was unseen; he stood at a corner, jailed in a narrow space between a shelf and the wall, and the rack had stood in front of him to dissimulate. The human troops were not checking every single detail; they only needed a general look. It would be senseless to check in the drawers or shelves; they looked for a corpse, or in the best scenario, a beaten and tied up man, not things that could be found in drawers. Hence, they did not check every corner and only gave a general look, inspecting where they thought a body could be hidden or could have been hidden. 

After that hour in total silence, Aranea and her men gathered at the entrance. Ignis could not help the necessity to look at her and them even if just from afar; despite the coat rack complaining in whispers, Ignis ignored him and exited the room, tiptoeing at first. He made sure nobody was watching or patrolling anymore, and he quietly went downstairs only once, before he found a landing from where he could look down at the low level from his there on the second floor. He went down on his ankles and tried to stay half-hidden behind a wall, but kept the eyes on Aranea and the townsguard men she had brought along. Ignis counted fourteen, including her.

Ignis was fully aware for an hour that she was inside the castle, but actually watching her felt surreal and strange. Home felt and was so close, she was so close to him and she had not realized. Ignis had not noticed how much he missed home until he saw her and his heart shrank again, so painfully he exhaled tremblingly and stared down for a moment.

“…he’s not here, gentlemen” he heard Aranea announcing, facing the men. They must have reported each individually, and all had led to negative results. “It’s late. Let’s hurry to a safe place before night hits. Let’s go.”  
With that, she turned around and headed straight for the doors. Ignis watched her like it was the first time in eight years. He thought of her and apologized in his head. He thought of his father. Cindy. Aranea, desperately looking for him. Leaving him behind without knowing she had been mere steps from him, now with the fake security that Ignis was not there. That would end up in her not ever returning. Ever. Send her in a never-ending journey looking for him, not knowing she had succeeded already.  
Not ever seeing her again.

Ignis could not watch her go through the doors, so he merely looked away. He stayed quiet, sat on the floor, the back against the wall, listening to the steps of all those men exiting. And then, the doors closing.  
He stayed completely quiet and still. There, with her, left his only chances of going home.  
Drowned in his thoughts, Ignis did not realize as minutes passed by. He was only shaken back to reality when there were voices announcing all throughout the castle.  
“They’re gone!” furniture called from every room, each spreading the word so the news could travel into every corner of the big castle. “They’re gone!”

They were gone. Possibly the last humans Ignis was ever going to see in the rest of his life. He had let her go not to put her in danger, but also because he had promised the beast that nobody would come. People appeared, but if what worried Gladiolus was that they would try to hunt him or that they would discover the magic furniture, then none of those things happened. In theory he broke the promise, but in a practical sense, there were no consequences to it. If one saw the words of the promise in a different way, he had, in theory, not really transgressed it fully. Aranea and her men had walked in, but they had not seen the furniture or the beast. There was a chance Ignis could use that as an argument to convince him that things were still alright. Gladiolus looked like an animal, but he was not; Ignis would reason with him, he decided, and he would reason good enough for Gladiolus to not become angered towards him.

He only needed to engage in conversation with him…some other day.  
The furniture started moving again, but there was a quiet air to everything. Most of them tried to get looks from the windows to see if they could catch a last glimpse of the humans, sharing whispers with each other. Ignis stood up from his spot and, with quiet and slow steps as if he wanted nobody to see him, he started going through the hallway, still thinking. If he tried to reason with Gladiolus that day, things would probably not work out. There was a possibility that Gladio was very upset in those moments, so it was best to wait a little before trying to talk with him. While he thought about it all, Ignis kept going through the hallway, his brain directing him completely straight to his room, the only place he would feel relatively safe in.  
When he was going upstairs, he heard rapid movements coming closer: the characteristic clicking the candelabra did when moving. 

Ignis, sweating coldly and panicking even when he insisted in his head that he was fine, was rushing without noticing on the steps. Soon, as he came to the top, he saw Prompto hurrying his way towards him. Ignis knew it as soon as he saw the candelabra, but his brain still had a senseless, fake, tiny hope and did not react immediately.  
“Ignis!” Prompto called with worry, desperately hopping towards him. “Hide!”  
Ignis could not reply; soon enough there were quick and heavy steps approaching, and he did not need to see it to know. His body reacted to the fear; the steps were not ‘quickly walking’, they were quickly _running_ and approaching him. 

_Crap._

Ignis was opening a door before he noticed himself, and at the same time he rushed into the room and slammed the door behind himself, Gladiolus appeared at the hallway, running on all four, breathing heavily, the eyes completely blinded by bestiality.  
Gladiolus roared much more loudly than the time he found the man in the West Wing.  
The beast was after him.

Ignis shut the door but he knew he had no chances; he pressed his back to the wall and heard Gladiolus roaring outside. The human closed the eyes when the huge figure literally broke through the door; the beast had thrown himself to it and the door, thick, exploded into thousands of thorns and pieces. But Ignis was, like Gladio had guessed in previous weeks, not a random town-boy; he had locked himself in there with that intention.  
As soon as Gladio broke through the door, Ignis exited the room and hurried through the hallway, taking advantage that the beast would be slightly confused from the hit. Back when the beast was angered by his intrusion on the west wing, Ignis had walked quickly despite the death threat.  
This time, he ran. It was a major, serious issue this time.

He heard Gladiolus loudly roaring, but he never looked back. He rounded into hallways as soon as he saw them in an attempt of tricking the beast and get him to lose track of the man. But Gladiolus was too fast; he ran behind Ignis, and he managed to always see which direction he took no matter how much the human tried to rush.  
Ignis reached a staircase and he jumped the first set of steps, careful when gravity pulled him to the landing, and he hurried downstairs. In no time, and still roaring as if though he wanted to destroy the entire castle using only the voice, Gladiolus appeared behind and jumped towards him. By then, Ignis was at the bottom of the stairs…but the beast was too big, too strong, too fast; his jump was enough to land right on top of Ignis, throwing him hurtfully to the floor.

Gladiolus stood on top of him and put a hand to Ignis’ throat like the first time they met, except this time he was pressing down so hard Ignis immediately suffocated, gagged and lost sight for a moment. Gladiolus was so angered he could not even form a word; he brought a hand up and roared into Ignis’ face. The man did not close the eyes.  
Before Gladio’s claws could come down on him, a pair of wardrobes, two coat racks and three shelves appeared and held him back. Gladio violently tried to push them away, and in those attempts he let go of Ignis’ throat, freeing him. The man could only roll onto his tummy while weakly trying to stand up, but it took him longer than he wanted; the previous pressure on his neck had been short but too hard and he felt unable to breathe. He stayed thrown there some moments, hearing Gladiolus furiously fighting off the furniture, and adrenaline soon had Ignis up on his feet before he even realized he was running again.

None of the furniture was destroyed; they were only injured, but as soon as they saw Ignis had advantage, they let go of Gladio. If they did not, he would end up smashing them to pieces.  
Ignis ran with all the strength in his legs. He went through hallway after hallway, and he heard Gladiolus roaring behind him, eventually catching up. Ignis tried to think, not use brute force, and he, after some running, went into a room.  
Strategy.  
Losing no time and hurrying more than he knew he could do, he took a bedsheet, threw a fist to the window to break through the glass only enough to put his hands out, and tied the sheet to the windowsill's structure the best way he could manage as firmly and tightly as possible, and hung it to the outside.  
The beast broke through the door, roaring. Ignis decided to take advantage that he was much smaller and agile and ran towards the beast himself, but threw himself down to avoid his claws, managed his way to the door, dodged Gladiolus, vaguely managing to slip past his legs, and he stood up again, running away. Gladio went after him, fast.

Ignis, instead of going down, went upstairs again. Gladiolus almost reached him once, but Ignis managed to roll away and into a room, slamming the door behind himself again. He repeated his process and used the bedsheets; he quickly took one, broke the window open (they all were locked), and tied an edge to the windowsill, letting the rest of the sheet hang on the outside.  
Timing correctly, Gladio broke through again, and Ignis repeated his process of escaping him with agile movements. This time, the beast almost gets a good grip of one of his ankles, and Ignis knew that he could not repeat the strategy again; Gladiolus was learning it and next time Ignis tried to slip past him, it would not work. The next window would be ‘the one’.  
The man ran through the hallway again, and, in the rush of his life, he managed to run around until spotting a staircase again. He hurried upstairs, but in his way, he was suddenly taken from an ankle and he fell down, hitting his nose on the steps and groaning in pain, his glasses falling from his face.

Gladiolus turned him around and pulled him closer, hitting more of the man against the steps, and keeping him underneath his huge form.  
“A man of word, huh!?” Gladiolus roared at him and raised his hand again. It was, this time, the coat rack with the purple scarf who stopped him, tying the cloth around the beast’s neck and, taking advantage that they were in the middle of the stairs, he pulled strong enough to make Gladio lose balance and fall down, rolling back onto the landing. The rack, as the beast fell, yelled at Ignis for ‘Quick’, and the man did not need to be told twice; he got back up on his feet at the same time he recovered his glasses, and continued running.  
Gladio managed his way up as well and rushed after him. This time, Ignis did not take any of the hallways that he passed by and only ran to the end of the main one. Running in straight line was not a smart idea; the beast was already catching up with him. Gladio watched as the man, instead of taking any of the hallways to the sides when he reached the end of the main one, stopped and quickly unlocked the window.

Ignis, once opening it, put his hands on the wall, hopped out, and threw himself down from the fourth floor.

Gladiolus stopped running not to crash with the window; with his previous speed, he struggled with managing to stop and he could not do it in time, but he put the head down so it hit the wall and not the window. Breathing heavily, Gladio looked around for some moments, not understanding, feeling struck on the head out of confusion as if it had been a brick.  
Had the man just committed suicide?  
The beast, startled and not understanding what was happening, stood up and took a look out of the window, and he widened the eyes when he did not find Ignis’ dead body lying on a pool of blood on the ground.  
Instead, the man was holding to a cloth tied to the window on the floor right underneath the one he had jumped off from.  
Gladiolus opened the eyes wide watching it; despite Ignis struggling because his sudden weight was about to break the cloth, that had been a smart move. With the rush, Ignis either had luck that he picked the right window in time, or he was much smarter than Gladio had guessed at first.

The cloth did not stand him any longer, so Ignis carefully calculated his fall to the other one; he thanked the Astrals for having calculated correctly on the precise windows. When the first cloth broke, he was mentally prepared and, after two seconds of falling, his hands quickly held onto the one on the floor below, the first he had tied, and heard the cloth ripping but not breaking just yet. While he stayed there, Nox came running from the back part of the castle and stopped nearby him. She neighed loudly and kicked the floor, looking up at him, as if hurrying him. He cursed under his breath; it looked easy but it definitely was not, this of hanging from a bedsheet from a second floor. If he did not hold as tightly, he would fall; but if he held tightly, the cloth started to break again. 

Gladiolus roared and, as he was too heavy to do as Ignis, he found himself falling in the trap and having to return over his own steps; Gladio had to go all the way down from the inside of the castle, which would be taking a lot of time for him. He would take much more time getting to the outside than Ignis would; the plan was succeeding. To earn more time, Ignis had to rush his way to the ground without dying. There was, however, no cloth on the first floor; that was the last sheet he had tied. Cursing and looking around he found no better option but to jump not only down but also to a side, and try to hold onto the windowsill of the window on the first floor.

For his luck, it was big enough for him to hold onto, even though the possibilities of getting a good grip of it were low.  
He did not hesitate; the worst that could happen was dying from the fall, and that would be a better scenario to the one he would face if Gladiolus caught up with him before he made it to the ground, so there was nothing to lose.  
Ignis jumped off to the windowsill; his hands, while slightly injured from the pair of windows he broke, landed on it nonetheless, at the time he let out an exhaled groan, loudly. His fingers hesitated at first and he lost balance, but he managed to not fall down. Even though he held for a few moments, he had not landed well; a few seconds later, he was falling from the first floor.

Not his first time falling from quite a height; he knew how to land. Out of the circumstances, his landing was dumb and he ended up with an ankle and a wrist injured, but had he been an untrained person he would have broken the legs or something worse. He stayed thrown down on the ground some moments, before Nox nuzzled at him and neighed. Ignis did not lose time and stood up. The mare did not have the saddle, but that did not stop Ignis from hopping onto her and holding onto her neck. Without a single instruction and at the same time Ignis had climbed onto her, the mare started running towards the main entrance.  
The sun had set. Daemons would appear soon and Ignis knew it…but this was his only chance. He could not go back now or he would die. He could not hesitate a single moment. Where and when he found shelter for the night did not matter a single bit; right now the only important matter was escaping from the castle and leave it behind. Maybe he could even catch up with Aranea and her squad. Daemons were less worse than the castle, so he simply hurried trying not to doubt.

Ignis rushed Nox and, when they reached the main entrance, he found that there were three useless locks on the ground; that must have had been Aranea’s doing. They had simplified the escape route that way without even knowing; the mare only kicked the doors open, neighing, and they were soon into freedom.  
Ignis did not want to take the risk to know if Gladiolus would dare to go outside after him, so he encouraged Nox to keep on running in a straight line without hesitating neither of them. He did not look back and felt too nervous to do it even if he had wanted, and he felt fresh, chill air hitting him full on the face, blinding him for a moment. He hid behind the mare and trusted her to continue.  
When he recovered and looked up, he encouraged her again. Nox neighed and kept running, leaving the castle behind. 

Ignis knew he was not free of danger, but it still took him off guard when an Iron Giant appeared in front of them, blocking the way. Nox stopped harshly and came up on two legs, neighing in fear. Ignis, with no saddle, tried to stay still, but the mare was too scared and she ended up accidentally throwing him off her back. Ignis groaned lightly when he hit the ground. It took him only a few moments to understand the great danger, and he realized it was no place for his friend. He moved up and hit Nox on the thigh, strong enough to order her without words to run away. The mare did, out of mere reflex and fear.  
Ignis, on his own now, stood up and stayed still, facing the Iron Giant. He was distracted by two figures on a side, and found two Reapers getting close as well.  
_Wonderful_.

Ignis took some steps back and he picked a long branch that could almost pass as a lance. He held it firmly and turned to face the three daemons again, and he frowned.  
Aranea was right: he would not die without offering one big fight first.  
The mess started. He dodged a slash from the Iron Giant and rolled away of the three daemons, and his best strategy was that of avoiding them until he thought of something useful, perhaps taking one of the reaper’s weapons from them. That was the only thing he could think about that could end up in him surviving, so he tried to stick by it.  
Dodging and moving, he tried for the Iron Giant to slash down on the Reapers, but it did not happen. He spent minutes only avoiding them, figuring if he could escape and finding himself cornered every time, having to deal with the daemons. He could hear Nox neighing at times somewhere close, but he did not spot her.

While desperately dodging all the slashes that tried to get to him, and as inevitable as it was, a reaper got to him. Ignis groaned when the reaper managed to hit him roughly on the back, but, luckily enough for him, it had been with the dull end of its scythe’s grip. It had been a hard strike, nonetheless, that hurt, took him off guard and pushed him down to the ground. Smart and quick enough, Ignis rolled to a side and the scythe landed on the earth where he had previously been. The man came up to a knee and breathed heavily and quick, still holding the useless branch in a hand. He had not delivered a single hit, and he was getting tired from all the dodging. He had hit his nose, had sensitive hands that broke through glass, and an injured ankle and wrist. Not only did he have no weapon, he was _literally_ not in the best fighting conditions.  
Five minutes could not seem as much, but into a fight, that was tiring. 

Ignis cursed under his breath. He was tired and he still had three daemons to face.  
Well, it had been a relatively nice life.  
Resigned to a certain death, Ignis did manage to come up on his feet this time.  
But, suddenly, he heard a roar from a side.

He turned and found the figure of the beast running towards him, on all four. Ignis swung the lance to adjust it on his arm and he adopted a defensive pose in a way where he was not giving his back to the daemons or the beast, but rather a side to each.  
He was going to make sure to make Aranea proud when she would find his corpse and see he really did fight until his last breath.  
The beast was first to attack; Gladiolus, once close to him, roared and jumped ahead. Ignis got prepared and frowned, expecting the beast’s usual landing on top of him.  
Attack that never came; Gladio’s form went past him and, when Ignis turned, he saw Gladiolus landing onto a Reaper, smashing it down to the ground. The beast roared and growled while destroying the skeletal form, throwing the claws down on it and sending bones flying everywhere.

Ignis, not understanding, stood there and watched him. Gladiolus roared when the other Reaper tried to attack him, and dodged. He took the daemon in his claws and started destroying it as well. Ignis could only come out of his confusion when the Iron Giant, still present, slashed towards him. The man avoided the hit and backed away. He got busy entertaining the Giant, hearing Gladiolus in the background roaring over and over, and the sound of the bones as they were shaken and thrown away.  
This did not make sense. Ignis did not understand what was going on, or why Gladiolus had decided to team up with him. If one could call it a team when only Gladiolus fought and Ignis was busy only moving to the sides and trying not to die. Perhaps the beast wanted to kill Ignis himself, so he would first get rid of others that tried to murder him. Nobody that was not Gladio would take the pleasure of his death, Ignis guessed.

Before Ignis could notice, the Reapers had died and they were disappearing turned into black dust. When the man turned, he found Gladiolus bleeding from an arm, but that did not seem to bother him. The Iron Giant slashed down; both avoided, but, not expecting it, Ignis was hit by a hand of the daemon and he was sent back a couple yards, groaning.  
When he pulled himself up on his hands, stunned and weak, he found Nox coming towards him, leaning down to nuzzle at him. Ignis moved up and looked back, and saw Gladiolus fighting all on his own with the Iron Giant. He had no chance, Ignis had thought, but his assumption was quieted when Gladiolus, in a way that Ignis could not explain and that left him in awe, suddenly took the Iron Giant’s sword from it and held it in his hands, and he started using it against the daemon itself.  
The monster seemed to be scared of its own weapon and it moved back. Gladiolus slashed him once, twice, three times, and he, with a loud, last roar, threw the sword to the daemon and it pierced through its chest.

The Iron Giant fell backwards with a loud, screeching sound. Ignis had covered himself, still thrown on the ground with the mare at his side. He stayed quiet, breathing heavily and not moving. 

There was sudden, long-lasting silence.

He could hear Gladiolus’ heavy, shallow breathing, and some whining from the beast. Eventually, Ignis looked up and searched for him in the dark. The beast stood in front of the black puddle in which the Iron Giant was disappearing. Ignis moved up to a knee, and watched Gladiolus stumbling without even needing to walk. He bled badly from an arm, and there was some blood on his head as well. He looked exhausted and injured.  
Suddenly, Gladiolus fell to the ground.

Ignis watched him, still unable to control his breathing. Gladiolus moved a bit on the ground like he tried to stand up, but he whined in pain, a honest moan of suffering. Ignis watched him. The beast breathed heavily and tremblingly and, after some attempts, he stopped moving. He really could not get up.  
The human looked at his mare, then back at Gladiolus. This was his chance. He only had to mount the mare and leave.  
Ignis looked at him some more moments and heard him breathing heavily, even though he had stopped whining. The man hesitated only for a moment… and then, he turned to his mare, stood up, and hopped onto her. 

He patted Nox on the head, and she awaited instructions. Ignis had her turn around so they would give their backs to both Gladiolus and the castle in the distance, and he looked over his shoulder a last time to the beast. The immense figure that had come to aid Ignis and saved him from the daemons laid still, not doing a sound, and breathed with troubles.  
Ignis kept the eyes on him for a moment.  
He would not need to dirty his hands to get rid of Gladiolus. Night was only starting, so it was clear much more daemons would appear all across the dark hours. Some would stumble upon the beast and do whatever they pleased. Besides, Gladiolus was too injured to defend himself, and he had no chances of standing up and head back to the castle. This was best for him; he would stop suffering.

Ignis kept looking at him some moments, frowning. He knew he would, one day, get his revenge even without trying; the Astrals were in charge of that. The beast deserved to end like this. Gladiolus had caged him in conditions as if though Ignis was less than an animal. He had constantly tried to harm the man, and he had made him lose his composure and patience every day for almost two months. And only twenty minutes before this, the beast had completely and directly tried to murder him. He made Ignis jump off a fourth floor on his free will because it was better than facing him, that was how much he terrified the man.  
He could have saved Ignis from the daemons this once, sure, but he had tried to kill him at least three times before.

Ignis’ frown deepened and he looked away. He patted Nox again…but he still did not give her any instructions. The quiet was strong. Not a single thing did a sound; only Gladiolus’ suffering breath filled the void. Ignis could hear him and he felt something build up behind his stomach, giving him nausea and a feeling he did not like. He looked at the beast, still unmoving on his spot, in pain.  
It was not so hard just leaving him behind. He deserved that.  
Tremblingly, Ignis sighed. He looked away and stayed quiet, the head down.  
It was not so hard…it did not _have_ to be so hard.

After a minute in silence, he moved a hand up to use his fingers so he could caress his closed eyes from under his glasses, and he muttered a curse under his breath.  
“I must have lost my head…” he whispered to himself.

Gladio’s vision was blurry and he was fighting to keep the eyes open, but he was falling into blackness. He heard the mare walking, and not a single sound from the man. It had not been hard abandoning him, Gladio thought. Not like he had expected otherwise.  
What brought him fully awake before falling unconscious was a voice at his side.  
“Hey…”  
With some troubles and still breathing shallowly, the beast managed to move the head enough to look up to see what called for him, and the first thing to call his attention was something he did not know he had paid so much attention to in the previous days.  
_The eyes of a strategist. They’re green._  
Down on his ankles at his side, Ignis looked at him with guilt but some calm.  
“I need to get you on the horse” the human explained to him in a quiet voice, and he saw Ignis moving a hand up to the beast’s head. A groan sounded in Gladio’s throat, thinking the man was to harm him, but the human’s hand landed on him so softly he vaguely felt it. “But I need your help.”

 _Why do you not just escape?_ , Gladio could not formulate the angered question. He was too weak to do that. _What is the trick in this?_

Whatever the trick could be, Gladio never saw it happen. Ignis helped him to get on the mare, who complained a bit under the weight but could handle it, and there was no trick in that. Ignis calmly started walking back to the castle on his free will…and Gladio still could not see the trick. The human would have never done that. He was far enough from the castle, he had all the way clear to freedom. Ignis, however, was still heading straight to the Citadel.

Gladio was weak and exhausted, but he never fell unconscious. He was waiting for whatever trick the human had in hands, waiting and expecting for him to do anything suspicious. The human had all the chances and opportunities of the world in his hands. Right in those moments, he could not only escape, he could also kill Gladio, take his revenge, he could steal anything he pleased, do whatever he wanted, and still calmly walk away afterwards and return home in complete safety and peace. Ignis could and wanted to do it, and the beast knew it. So Gladio, on the mare, only waited patiently for the moment in which the human would leave him behind and run to freedom. But with every passing minute, they were closer and closer to the castle, and Ignis still did not do anything.

 _Where is the trick?_ Gladio questioned to himself, confused. _Where is the goddamn trick?_

It did not make sense. Ignis had a million and all the reasons of the universe to never go back to the Citadel.  
And against the million and all reasons, Ignis gently closed the doors behind himself when they returned.


	8. New Beginning - Nothing Personal

“It hurts.”  
“I know.”

Ignis had been frowning for such a long time during his stay at the castle that it had almost become his average look. Being annoyed had become so usual that he really did not even notice he had been frowning the entire time since he had returned to the Citadel.  
The fire crackled from its place a couple yards away and filled the silence when none were saying a word or making a sound. It also colored their frames and clothes with warm colors, but did not help much to contrast against the black and golden structure of the room. The furniture had gone completely mute and most only watched the interaction between man and beast, nobody feeling sure of what to think or how to act, and deeply curious and confused on the entire situation. The air was that of complete silence and seriousness.

Sat on a chair nearby the fireplace of that sitting room, Ignis had not once looked up at the beast to the eyes, and was concentrated on the injury of Gladiolus’ arm. The furniture had previously made sure to bring him a medical kit while he guided the beast into the room, the same one where Caleo had first arrived on his visit, and helped him to sit on a big and comfortable chair. Gladiolus did not lose consciousness in any moment, but his head had not stopped spinning around, and he had been bleeding. Ignis removed his gloves, covered in dirt and blood (if it was his own or Gladio’s, he guessed maybe both), and had reviewed in the kit to see what he could use. He ignored the emblem on the black box (an intricately designed golden skull on a side view) that gave him a terrible headache out of mere déjà vu, and he focused on his job.

“It hurts” Gladiolus repeated louder as he snapped his arm to a side, frowning and not able to look at the human.  
“I _know_ ” Ignis repeated louder as well, his teeth clenching and his entire head throbbing with anger. “Stay still. I’m not done yet” his voice calmed as he spoke, but he still did not look up. He put at a side a useless cloth drenched in blood and took a clean one while Gladio’s arm returned nearby him. Noctis and Prompto, in complete silence at a prudent distance into the shadows, watched with wide eyes as if petrified. Ignis soaked the cloth in a small bowl with alcohol. “Stay still. It’s going to burn.”  
The beast only exhaled through the nose and rested his chin on a hand, looking at the other side as if ignoring the man. Ignis, still frowning, did not care and moved the hand up to, as softly as he could, press it against the open wound.

As soon as he did Gladiolus reacted and hissed, roughly taking his arm away, at the time he snapped his head towards Ignis.  
“It _hurts!_ ”  
“I _know!_ ” Ignis yelled back at him, his frown completely drawn on his face now, at the time he tensed and faced the beast, their faces some inches apart, both glaring at each other. “You’ve told me five times already, I _know!_ ” Gladiolus said nothing and only looked somewhere else again, moody, and let Ignis continue. The man, as moody, started cleaning the injury again, hearing the beast hissing and groaning in response. “Stop moving, I’m trying to heal this.”  
“Well, I wouldn’t move if it didn’t burn as much” Gladio replied in a growl, frowning and looking at the man again.

“And it wouldn’t burn as much if you didn’t move.”  
“I wouldn’t be injured if you hadn’t escaped!”  
“And I wouldn’t have escaped if you hadn’t tried to kill me!” Ignis chided him, still not looking at him and trying not to throw his fist into the wound just for relief. Both stayed quiet some moments, and soon enough the beast was staring away again, resting his chin on his hand. Ignis took a few moments of anger before returning to his duty, and he tensed again when the beast hissed under the touch of the cloth.

 _And I wouldn’t have tried to kill you if your father had kept his word_ , Ignis could almost hear the answer of the beast, but seconds passed in complete silence and the comeback never appeared. Ignis was too proud to remind him he still had an argument to his favor, so he did not speak either, even when he knew that the most probable was that both knew it already. Besides, the reminder that his dad, whom he had trusted wholeheartedly, enough to stay under major death threat trusting only in a promise, had not kept his word up despite acknowledging the consequences…it was deeply discouraging. It did not anger Ignis; if anything, it saddened him. It was almost disappointing. And it hurt in some way.

Besides, there was something else bothering him on the inside. He had been thinking about it ever since the daemon attack. It had been what made him return over his steps and help the beast onto his mare. The confusion and curiosity had been bugging him and it insisted on poking his brain every five seconds. Not containing it, but not wanting to sound submissive or kind (simply because he was a human, hence, unperfect, and he was currently upset), he tried to look for a different way to word his question.  
“…you looked yourself for this outcome” Ignis said lowly. “You could have stayed in the castle, and the daemons would have made the work for you. I wouldn’t have lasted. You had no need to…”  
“I needed” Gladio muttered, not turning to face him. The man stayed quiet and had stopped his work for a moment, but retook it before the beast continued. “I needed to go, precisely because you’d have died if I hadn’t gone.”

Despite the angry frown on his face, Ignis’ eyes remained sad while looking at the beast’s arm. It had not been a major injury that required of stitches, but it still needed to be cleaned unless they wanted it to get infected, and it had to be patched to stop bleeding out. Ignis had already cleaned the wound of the head, which was smaller, and he was almost done with this one as well.  
“…I thought that was your point, nonetheless” the man said. “I thought you wanted me dead…seen as the pledge was transgressed…”  
There were only a few seconds of silence. Ignis kept the proud frown, feeling defeated but not wanting to show it. Gladio snorted, and did not turn to look at him.  
“…it was not your father” the beast said. At his words, the human looked up at him with confusion in the eyes, and the mouth slightly parted.

Ignis had waited for more but the other did not continue, so he had to question him aloud.  
“…excuse me?” he asked quietly.  
“It wasn’t your dad” Gladio repeated, and this time he did turn a bit to face him. When he found Ignis’ eyes on his own, the beast looked away, but kept the face in his direction instead of keeping it somewhere else. He saw the confusion in the human, so he sighed and tried to explain, muttering. “The people that came…they didn’t know what they were looking for. I heard them say your name, which was what made me lose it, but…they really were talking about the ‘chances’ you or your corpse were here” Gladio moved the eyes towards him again, and this time he kept staring. Ignis did not look away. “They were talking about _possibilities_. Which means they didn’t have for sure whether you were here or not. And never once did they mention the wild beast of the castle.”

At those last words, Ignis’ eyes went down again. He distracted himself with the cloth, soaking it again in the alcohol.  
“If it had been your father asking them to come save you” Gladiolus stopped for a moment to hiss and keep a groan in the throat when the man, again, pressed the cloth to his arm, even though it did not hurt as much as the first time. “…they would have known for _sure_ you were here, and would have known there was a monster somewhere around. They wouldn’t have been in the ‘possible search’; they wouldn’t have left until finding you.”  
Ignis stayed completely quiet. His hand moved mechanically on the injury, but he was not focusing on it. His mind was somewhere else. He had not thought about it that way. Of course, though, he had been too busy being chased around, too focused on surviving, to really stop to think about the subtext and hidden words in Aranea’s exchange with her soldiers.

It made sense. Maybe it really had not been his father. It looked like a very Aranea thing to do, that of going into a search on her own decision, without needing to be requested for it. He was not sure what to think or what not to think. He was not even sure why, and he hated himself for it, but ever since he returned to the castle he felt a terrible sadness nested in his chest, which was only fed by those new thoughts. He had no reasons to be sad; he had to be scared or…he really did not know how he should be feeling, but this was a surprise to him. He had expected all feelings but sadness, let alone one this size.  
He did not speak in some moments, but the questions in his head insisted until he had to let them all out.  
“…if so, why did you try to kill me anyway?” the man questioned as if about to lecture him. Gladio rolled the eyes and snorted.

“Which part of _beast_ do you still not understand?” Gladio growled at him, and when he saw Ignis really had no comeback (to his surprise), he understood the man was not okay in many senses. Gladio sighed and closed the eyes to calm down before continuing. “Listen, I…I’m not a man, like you. I’m some sort of animal. And sometimes instincts are…much more powerful than my…rationality” Gladio started explaining to him. Ignis had been about to shut him by saying he already knew about it, but only then he realized that all of those matters had been explained to him by the furniture, never Gladiolus himself. So he let him speak. “I understood they weren’t sent by your father once I had calmed. But my first reflex when I saw them was to think your dad broke the promise and….you get the rest. It was that: an impulse. From my animal side. I didn’t…understand I didn’t have to. Okay?”

Ignis did not nod or shook the head. He did not answer verbally either. He did no motion. He simply stayed on his own place, sat on a much simpler chair than the one Gladiolus was on, at his side. The beast looked at him for some more seconds expecting any reaction, but stared away with a sigh when he received none.  
“Still, I do not quite understand your…other impulse, that of…” _saving me_ , “…aiding me in battle. I…maybe my father did not speak, but I still escaped. You didn’t have…”  
“If your father did not speak” Gladio interrupted, “then he’s keeping his word up. If so, then the treaty is up; if he’s respecting my conditions to not speak, I have to respect his and keep you safe” the beast looked up at him again, seeing Ignis putting the cloth away and reaching for the bandage. The human stopped for a moment and looked up at him as well, the eyes weak but the frown still on his face. Gladio’s eyes fixed on those green of his. “You’re his ‘token of trust’. If I had let you die, I’d have broken our pledge. You’re under my care, whether I like it or not. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

Ignis seemed to react to that, but he also seemed to try to dissimulate. His body tensed for a moment and he blinked a couple times, not knowing where to place his eyes, before deciding to focus on the bandage. He seemed flustered in some way. The beast did not like that.  
“…it’s nothing personal” Gladio muttered at him, and looked away while Ignis reached close for his arm. Gladio gave a subtle stare again to see the way Ignis started wrapping the bandage around him. The man himself did not notice, but Gladio had realized, ever since they first met, the way he tensed when he was close to the beast. Having to touch him, his hands trembled in terror. Gladio had realized it; Ignis had not, but the truth was that he was scared of touching the beast. Every inch that was closer to Gladiolus meant more tension in him. But despite the trembling hands, Ignis never moved them away and gave up on the job; he continued to the very last second of it, every time. This time was no different; he started wrapping the bandage around Gladio’s arm and did not move away. Gladiolus, realizing this but too proud to thank him or compliment him for his courage, only sighed and looked away, his eyes suddenly saddening as well.

The silence returned. None of the furniture dared to do or say anything yet, watching the strange interaction. For a reason nobody could put a finger on, the air was that of sadness, as if though somebody had died five minutes ago. Perhaps it was the fact that death had really been very close in a matter of a couple hours; the danger of fourteen armed men was one, but, more than anything, death had been very close when Gladio had almost gotten to kill Ignis twice, and then close again when Ignis jumped off the window without having the entire security that his plan would succeed; he was in major risk in about five different ways in which his strategy could have failed. Death stood close again when he faced three daemons on his own, injured and without any weapon, and then again when Gladio ended up bleeding, injured and thrown on the ground. 

Ignis’ frown had softened into the silence while he bandaged the beast’s arm but it did not entirely fade. Before he was done and as his hand slowed onto its work, he closed the eyes and kept a sigh in his chest, taking courage to speak up.  
“…thank you” it was delivered as a murmur.  
“I said it was nothing personal” Gladiolus snorted, a bit tense.  
“Then, in a non-personal way; thank you” Ignis insisted. Saying those words had taken him more effort than hopping out a window on a fourth floor, and he was not going to be rejected from his gratitude. He carefully and subtly looked up at the beast, looking for a reaction. Gladio had stayed quiet after a tiny snort, and he insisted on looking away as if though the human did not exist. “…if you hadn’t appeared…”  
“I get it” Gladio interrupted him, the voice low. “You’re welcome, if that’s what you wanted to hear.”

Ignis said nothing and his frown twitched slightly, as if the words had been an unexpected poke of a branch on him; it did not hurt deeply, but it could still cause a reaction. Both stayed quiet again, and Ignis finished with the bandage, securing it as it was.  
“Done” he murmured and moved slightly back on his chair, the head down. Gladiolus did not reply further a small groan in his throat as if though a single ‘Yeah’ had stayed trapped there. Ignis knew that he did not have to expect it, but he still stayed quiet with a tiny hope of hearing the word. It did not come. He pushed his glasses up his nose and decided it was fine, before he started cleaning the small table at a side, collecting the cloths he had used and putting the things of the kit back in there.  
As he did that, Gladio took off the rest of his shirt; he had taken off only half of it, to expose his injured arm, but half still hung on him. 

When he was shirtless, he took the fabric in his hands and looked down at it. He sighed as if a bit exasperated and let it fall to the floor.  
“It’s useless now” he stated, still dry and not looking at anyone, directing his gaze to the fire. “Somebody throw it away.”  
Ignis looked down at the bulge on the ground, white and red. A coat rack had been approaching it, and when it took the shirt in its hands and lifted it, Ignis could examine it a bit better. He stood up and gently motioned for the rack to not leave, and softly took the clothing from its hands.  
“It’s not beyond repair” Ignis said while looking at the shirt, examining it. He looked again at the beast, still frowning. “You don’t throw it away for a cut this size. It’s easy to mend.”  
“Then do it yourself” Gladio muttered without looking at him. “I don’t know if you notice, but my hands are not ones for a fragile treat.”

Ignis did not reply. He stared at Gladiolus for a moment, and he soon looked down at some small furniture pieces in there, looking up at him; a candelabra alike Prompto, a little wooden box, and a vase.  
“If I may, could I request from you to bring me a needle and thread, please?” he asked them softly, and the furniture, while still petrified by not knowing how to react at all, shared nervous glances with one another, before all nodded at him and each left some different way. Ignis turned to find Gladio giving him a weirded look, as if wondering whether the man had not understood his previous sarcasm or wondering if the human was serious. While waiting, Ignis went back to his chair.  
“…clean your nose” Gladio muttered at him. Ignis, who had not expected for him to speak, stopped in his way and looked up at the beast, frown still present but soft. 

“Excuse me?” Ignis asked, and the beast looked away again with a little sigh.  
“It’s all…dirty” Gladio tried to explain, and Ignis moved a hand up to touch himself. Only then did he remember he had hit his nose earlier on a staircase, when Gladio had pulled him down from an ankle. Ignis had been so busy throwing himself off the fourth floor and dealing with daemons to inspect the state of his nose, and he had forgotten by when things had calmed. He guessed it was a very bad mess, at least to himself, who enjoyed very little of the dirt. Suddenly flustered as if though he had spent an hour in front of a nobleman like that without noticing instead of just Gladiolus, Ignis looked away and felt his cheeks burn.  
Soon, Prompto had approached him in total silence and offered him a little cloth. Ignis thanked him in a whisper and soaked the cloth in some water, and he started cleaning the skin above his lips. He looked down at the cloth and found it as if though he had sunk it in red paint. He decided to stop looking while cleaning the rest.

In the middle of his current duty, the box, the other candelabra and the vase returned to him. It was the box who carried with the sewing kit on its inside. None said anything as the box opened itself to reveal the content. Ignis leaned down and thanked it in a whisper, taking what he needed from it. He decided to turn the chair around and take it a couple steps closer to the fire so he could have a better visibility; the activities of the day and the dark of the room had given him tired eyes, and he did not want to either do a bad work or pinch himself. 

Gladio watched him from his own spot on the chair, a bit further from the fire. The man was not paying attention to him; his entire focus was on the needle and the thread he was trying to put on it. The beast frowned while watching him. He had not expected Ignis to do that; when the man had said it was not hard to mend, Gladio did not know he meant he could fix it himself for real. And when Gladio told him to do it, that had been mere sarcasm. He did not know the man was serious on this. As if believing it was a mere joke or something, the beast kept his eyes on Ignis, not believing it, expecting for any moment in which he would leave it and say he was kidding or something. But it never happened. 

Ignis really started sewing. Gladio watched him. Watched the way his hands, slightly trembling but firm enough to work, moved. One of them stayed hidden under the shirt, and the other went down onto it, only to come back up in gentle and graceful movements. For a moment, Gladiolus could not take his eyes off the sight. Perhaps it was the light the natural fire provided, perhaps Ignis’ naturally beautiful side-view, perhaps the constant come and go of the needle, but, for a moment, the boring activity of everyday he was performing almost looked like art. Maybe it was the natural grace he did it with, as if though he had learned to do with the hands what a prince is expected to learn with the feet for a royal waltz. 

The movement of his hands were hypnotizing. It looked careful. Almost motherly.  
Gladiolus looked up at his face, the side-almost-three-quarters view he was offered. He saw the brown hair, a bit messed as a reflection of the messed day…but, curiously, not looking bad. It was almost like even the things he did wrong were right; looking bad looked good in him. Gladio saw his mouth, pretty, soft-looking. With an incredibly subtle curve. Ignis was not even close to smiling in those moments, but the natural shape of the line of his lips had that tiny curve at the edges that nobody would notice unless they paid close attention. His cheeks. He had a few spots on them, but Gladio did not pay much attention, guessing it was dirt. His skin, light but not pale, had turned to warmth by receiving the light of the fire. It was painted into the red spectrum, but not close to hiding his real shade. Gladio was distracted by his nose, and he felt a slight pinch of guilt behind his stomach when he, for the first time, paid attention to it and realized it was not a straight line. He wondered if he had broken it when he made Ignis hit his face on the stairs, or if it had always been like that the entire time and he had just not noticed.  
His eyes were distracted by the glasses. And, from there, to the eyes.

The eyes, shiny. And tired. Sometimes they fluttered so quickly Gladio doubted Ignis himself noticed the movement. The human was still sewing and he did not seem to notice Gladio had been staring for a couple minutes by now. After some moments, the Shield snorted softly and did not show any emotion.  
“So, you really can sew” the beast said with a slight mockery tone as if finding that fact as something pathetic, and the only sign he had of the man having heard was a quick glance without the need to turn the head, before Ignis focused again on the shirt and the needle. “You clean around, you cook, you heal, and you sew. That’s servant activity. I thought you were more like a teacher.”  
“I _am_ a teacher…or I try to be” Ignis stated, not taking his eyes off the shirt he was holding and not stopping his work. “And it’s not ‘servant’ activity. It’s housework, basic needs.”  
“I’m just curious, don’t get so fired up” Gladio said with a bit of an arrogant sigh. “If you’re a teacher, or if you try to be, why bother with learning that stuff?”

There was some silence after the question.  
“…there is nothing wrong with developing skills for basic necessities” Ignis replied quietly and continued with his work, careful.  
“I’m not saying it’s wrong” Gladio rolled the eyes and snorted softly. “I’m just asking why you decided to learn that kind of things. They don’t seem like school material.”  
“It’s not school material, and not a matter of importance that you should question either” Ignis replied with the frown slightly deepened, but there was no anger in his voice. If it was because he was too tired for that or because he really was not that angered just yet, none of them knew for sure. 

Both fell into silence again. It was clear the man had tensed up at the subject they were treating. He had expected Gladiolus to start behaving like an idiot towards him again…but there was no comeback. There was an upset snort, of course, but no comeback, like it was to be expected. Ignis closed the eyes and stopped for a moment. His body swelled for a moment with a breath he contained, and he tried to keep calm. Gladiolus had just saved him from a certain death, and now was behaving relatively…not good, but not bad this time. Ignis guessed it was wise to not mess things up even more, and he breathed softly to calm down.  
Maybe it was the air of sadness in the room…or maybe his personal sadness, still nested in his heart and with apparently no plans of coming out…maybe it was just a necessity to excuse himself.  
Whatever it was, he, in all consciousness, decided to open up a bit about that matter.

“My father has always been in charge of working outside, and my mother used to stay home for the everyday activities” Ignis started, opening the eyes again. His voice, like his shoulders, had softened. At the sudden and unexpected change, Gladio looked back at him and paid attention, unsure of how he should be reacting, and a bit nervous. He had not expected Ignis to speak. Let alone as softly as he was doing in those moments. After some seconds in silence, the man continued. “She passed years ago. My father assumed all responsibility, both outside and inside the house. I had no siblings, and my uncle is always ‘too busy’ to attend his brother” Ignis, only then, continued with his task as if though he had previously forgotten he had been doing it. Gladio watched his hand come up as gracefully as before, and go down again. “My father never said it, but he was…” Ignis’ hands stopped again. 

After some moments in silence, Gladio looked back up at him because he knew something was wrong. Ignis was staring at the fire with clear sadness despite his contradictory frown. His gaze was lost in the movement of the flame, before he sighed and retook his work on sewing the shirt.  
“My father never said it, but he was getting exhausted. I noticed and I decided to help. I was too young to work, so I thought I could aid him in other things that were in my reach, any necessity that we could stumble upon. It took me some time because I had no teacher on the matter, but I eventually learned all the housework activities that were required and important, and all that my mother used to attend before her parting.”

Gladio stayed quiet. Suddenly, having questioned the man about it (with a slight hint of teasing in between) felt very wrong. The beast, a bit uncomfortable, moved a hand up and scratched his neck, eyes moving away. Silence once again for a couple moments, only filled by the crackling fire.  
“Too young to work” Gladio said, lowly. He was not kidding or mocking anymore. His questions were serious. “How old were you? Fourteen?”  
“Seven” Ignis said as softly as before, no hint of sadness in his voice despite the statement he had just settled. Gladio tensed subtly in his chair at the answer, and he found he had no immediate answer. Ignis did not say anything either.

_Since when do you cook breakfast yourself, smartass?_  
_Since I was eight, I learned young._

The argument hit him on the head in a sudden strike. Ignis’ answer, back when they had argued in the kitchen, had been deliberately sarcastic…but it had not been a lie. Gladiolus was not sure how to feel about it; there was a lot of subtext in everything Ignis said. There were things that could seem unimportant but could hide something as big as this. Gladio was…he was suddenly feeling a bit guilty. As if he had been blind and only now, with context, he could understand many things that had been unexplained before. He had guessed that Ignis was one of those people whose expectations in life was to marry and be the one attending all housework and that he had learned all those things out of passion. Turned out to be, he did it due to necessity, having lost his mother and not wanting his father to work himself out to exhaustion every day. A seven-year-old forcing himself to grow into adult activities out of love for his lone and sick father.

Gladio did not find the fact that he could sew as something pathetic anymore.

The beast looked down at his bandaged arm for some moments, everything still silent. He had been aware of the bandage the entire time, but after that small conversation with Ignis, he looked at it with new eyes, and he felt something behind his lungs that he did not like. When he stared again at the man, he felt something hitting his other arm, resting on the chair. Gladio turned and found Iris nuzzling at him. When she had his attention, she motioned with eyes, eyebrows and a small nod towards Ignis. The beast turned again and watched the man sewing. His hands were clearly trembling, and every time his arm had to come up, there was a small flinch on his shoulder, which also seemed to have become slightly stiff. Gladio wondered if the man was aware of it and dissimulated or, like the trembling of his hands, he simply did not notice.

The beast looked down at his bandage again, and he sighed. He took a few moments to build some courage inside himself.  
“…leave it” he muttered.  
“The what?” Ignis asked, and Gladio stood up from his chair to start approaching. At this, Ignis clearly tensed and looked back at him, as if taking his guard up in case he would have to escape from another attempt of murder. However, the beast only stood nearby him in a non-threatening way.  
“The shirt” Gladio said with a tiny nod towards the fabric in Ignis’ hands.  
“…no, it’s fine” the man murmured and looked down. “It really is not beyond repair.”  
“I don’t mean you stop mending it” Gladio corrected, and he moved a hand up. Ignis flinched at first and there was a tiny sound echoing in his throat, eyes fixing on the beast’s claws. Gladio did not like it, in a personal way that he was not willing to express. He kept the hand there, paws up. “I’m saying you leave it for tomorrow or another day. You’re tired” both stayed quiet, and then Gladio moved the other hand up to quickly point at his shoulder. “And hurt. Leave it.”

Ignis frowned at him but his eyes stayed drowned in that sadness that Gladio hated because he found no explanation to it. So far, the man had been only anger, sass and courage. Never once had he seen Ignis look this down in the dumps before, and he was hating it, almost like he preferred the irritating man that insisted on arguing with him. Nobody moved for a moment. Gladio moved the fingers lightly in a quick motion of insisting on his request. After staying still some moments, Ignis sighed and looked away at the time he took the shirt, the needle still hanging from the thread on it, and he gently handed it to Gladio’s paw. The beast took it and looked down at it, returning to his chair but only to leave the clothing on it.

He returned to the man and stood there some moments in silence. Ignis did nothing and only kept the head down and the eyes a bit lost.  
“…what kind of injury do you have?” Gladio asked and kept the eyes on the man. The latter did not reply for a couple moments and only kept the head down, but the pressure of the quiet and the beast standing nearby made him speak.  
“It’s not a major threat” Ignis murmured. “It must be only a bruise on my back…”  
“…let me see.”  
Ignis turned to look at him with a frown, but he did not look angry. Gladio’s first reaction had been to frown and snort in his face, but his eyebrows only twitched in complete hesitation; the look in Ignis’ face, despite trying to be angry, looked entirely different. Something throughout the day, if not everything about it, had broken something inside the man, something that Gladio did not understand or could explain. Whatever it was that was going through Ignis’ heart, it had touched deep in him.

Gladio could not handle that look. In any other moment he would have already snapped at him and would have started an argue, but with the pathetic look behind Ignis’ failed angered frown, the beast simply…could not snap out at him. He sighed and looked at a side for a moment.  
“You…helped me with my wound” Gladio reminded him, speaking softly. “Fair thing is…you let me…help _you_ …with yours…”  
He had said it part by part, not to make Ignis understand, but because it was taking Gladio himself some effort to say it. The human was looking at him still as if expecting the beast to laugh at him in any second. The silence carried on, and Gladio guessed Ignis was not going to accept. 

After a couple of moments, Ignis, with hesitation, moved a hand up to the first button of his shirt.  
At the same time he did, his eyes, with some subtle anxiety, looked at Gladio, away, at him again and away once more. The way he did that and by seeing Ignis’ hands stopping at the button, Gladiolus understood and he turned, stepping away at a prudent distance behind the man.  
“Bring me some ice” Gladio asked lowly to some furniture, and they, still in total silence, left hurriedly. The beast kept the eyes away, and he frowned with pride. The side of his gaze could see Ignis unbuttoning his shirt, but he did not fully watch him do. The man had not wanted, so Gladio would not see as he half-undressed from the shirt, but he needed to turn at some point or he would not be able to help.

Eventually, when he caught by a side glimpse that Ignis had finished unbuttoning, the beast turned. Ignis looked over his shoulder at him, still with that strange frown, and turned again after some moments. Little by little and not looking back, Ignis started revealing his skin, letting the shirt fall slowly from his shoulders so it rested at his elbows. Gladio had expected a fragile-princess body, but he was received by strong and firm shoulders, on top of a well-built and manly back. The beast still ignored his age, but this was not a teenager, and most definitely not a fragile princess. The body was that of a tall and strong man. The back was firm, strong, almost a wall. His frame could be obvious even when having clothes on, but, for some reason, revealing he was as strong under them took Gladio a bit off-guard.

The only thing that did not have to be there was that huge bruise in the middle of his back, painted right in between his shoulder blades. It was not what Gladio would qualify as grotesque, but it was not the outcome of a little bump against a knob either. The Shield guessed it had to be less worse than it looked; Ignis was giving his front to the fire, so the back was shadowed. Hence, the bruise had to look much darker than it perhaps really was. It was not how bad it was; it _was_ bad, how much was not the problem. The shapeless spot looked dark purple surrounded by a very thin reddish tone. It was not a major threat, but Gladio did not doubt it really did hurt on him. The beast did not remember to have hit him or have seen him accidentally hitting himself during the run around the castle…besides having dragged him by an ankle downstairs a couple steps, but that could not have caused this. Gladio guessed it must have had been work of a daemon back in the forest before he had arrived.  
Soon enough, the furniture he had previously asked for the ice returned with it in a small, thin-fabric cloth made a bag. Gladio thanked them wordlessly with the motion of a nod and took it.

He felt nervous. Ignis waited there, in complete silence, half of the back exposed.  
This was the first time Gladio would have physical contact with another person in five years.  
It did not make him nervous like a teenage schoolgirl watching a man with such a well-built body like Ignis’; it made him nervous in an exasperating anger towards himself. It was not the shape of the body, or who it was about, or how intimate it felt. It was the mere fact that he was reaching _so close_ to human skin. To what he had once had. To the memories of what he had once been. And, more than anything, he was reaching close to it with his claws. It was clear Ignis did not trust in him, but he was being courageous and brave enough to let the beast soon have the claws mere inches from his skin. No matter how firm and muscular Ignis was, Gladio, in his current form, would if he wanted shred through his skin and muscle like a knife going through butter. 

That was his reason for being nervous. Gladio trusted in himself and he knew for sure that he was not going to do any harm…but it was Ignis’ act of _allowing_ him to do it what gave him those idiotic sensations inside. Gladiolus knew and repeated to himself that, despite Ignis giving him permission for it, this was not trust. It was, most possibly, the sensation of being in debt, which, as formally as Ignis had shown to be so far, would make the man force himself to accept the gesture whether he wanted or not. On a second option that Gladio liked less but found more accurate, maybe Ignis was only scared of angering the beast by rejecting his offer; having almost died in his claws just an hour or two before this, he could have reasons to think Gladio was still sensitive to coming to lose it again.  
On a third option, similar but not the same than the second one, that Gladio found terrifyingly realistic but that he hoped from the bottom of his heart that was not the case, Ignis could feel _threatened_ and forced to do it. As if though he had received an order of the “And if you don’t, I’ll…” type. Ignis feeling _threatened_ by him. Gladio preferred to not think about it.

The beast sighed and got closer, standing behind the man sat at the chair in a way so its back was at his side and he could expose his body to Gladio. Ignis kept the head down and he did not seem to have plans on lifting it.  
“It’s…going to hurt” Gladio warned and he felt stupidly ridiculous by saying this, remembering Ignis had warned him too and he still had lost his head at the pain, like a child. Ignis did not reply and he did not move. Gladio looked at the man with attention, trying to make out what he was really feeling.  
Despite his apparent calm, Ignis was clearly as tensed as he had never been before. His breath was slow but very heavy, as if he was trying to contain himself and fighting hard not to snap something out or stand up and leave.  
“Relax” Gladio murmured, still frowning, and he lifted the cloth with the ice in it. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Ignis did not reply, again. The beast tried to not take any of this personal, and he, as cautiously as his big and tough hands allowed him to, pressed the cloth to the big bruise on the man’s skin. Ignis reacted immediately to it; a groan sounded in his throat at the time he swallowed a gasp, the head moving slightly back and the entire body hit by a shudder, like a bolt running down his spine. Gladio looked up from the bag to the back of Ignis’ head, attentive. The man still shivered and was keeping the back straight, like the ice had woken him up.  
The beast looked away for some moments, and he let the silence continue.  
He had to hold the bag in a similar way in which one would hide the thumb between the index and middle finger. That way, his claws were not pointing at Ignis and stayed out of accident range. Of course, Ignis could not see that.

At times, Gladio shifted the bag in between his fingers to press it better or in a different angle to the bruise. He sometimes looked up at Ignis to find any reaction, but the man was silent. The Shield, a bit uncomfortable with the little reactions Ignis’ body did show, kept a sigh in his chest. Just like Ignis, his curiosity was stronger than him, and even though he had to push the words out almost forcefully, he managed to get over his pride and break the silence.  
“It was _you_ who had no reasons to act like you did” Gladio said lowly, frown still upon his face ever since he had entered the room, but soft and a bit sad this time. Ignis offered no reply. “You had literally not a single reason to come back. You had all the chances in the world to escape. And you didn’t.”  
“You said it yourself” Ignis replied after a few moments, but he did not look back. “The pledge’s still up. Like you are to not harm me, and like my father is to not speak, I am to stay here with no complaints” he said it a bit bitterly, but formal, like usual. “It’s my duty as mediator…”

“But you didn’t know that yet. You thought I was still after you” Gladio stated. “I thought you were smart. I thought you’d realize that you could leave me there and escape and there would have been no consequences. The promise would be broken, sure, but I would have died, so any risk was crossed out. It was a golden chance for you.”  
“I know” Ignis said almost interrupting him, the voice a bit louder. Gladio stayed quiet and he saw the man taking in a breath. He took a few seconds before really letting it out. “I know.”  
“That’s what I’m questioning” Gladio said, shifting the bag again and hearing an involuntary and tiny moan in Ignis’ throat at the contact. “Why did you decide to do the total opposite, save who has almost killed you twice and keeps you prisoner in a place you hate, and close the doors yourself?”

There was silence. The fire made its job of filling it with the constant crackling. The furniture still could not say or do a thing and only watched the entire scene ever since their arrival is if in awe. Man and beast interacted like they were alone.  
“…I should not have felt like it, seen as you have attempted to murder me enough times already” Ignis started explaining, “but…” he stayed quiet some moments, and his head slowly moved back down again. “…I was only returning the favor. You saved me from a certain death. Whether you have tried to kill me before or not, I had the immediate debt.”  
“I still don’t quite get it” Gladio could not help his words. “To save who’s ruined your life, and to actually nurse him…”  
“…what sort of man leaves an ally behind so cowardly?” Ignis asked in almost a murmur. “You aided me in battle. You were my ally in a battle that brought you down. I could not act towards you like the enemy you had previously been. I was aware of the consequences and what I was giving up in exchange for this. But, despite my egocentric wants, I am not selfish enough to let somebody die so long that frees _me_.”

 _Ally_. Gladio had not liked much the sound of it, but he guessed it was the correct word. They were not exactly enemies, but they were not friends either. They were a pair of men forcefully living in the same place under the promise that none could do any harm to the other. ‘Ally’ had to be the word to define them, he guessed, so he did not complain about it. He moved the bag a little more again, as part of the ice had already melted, and he pressed it back to Ignis’ skin. He showed less reaction, but there was still that involuntary and subtle groan.  
Everybody, in the silence that followed, were expecting for the words. But Gladio simply could not manage to say them.

Instead, the beast sighed and his eyes focused on Ignis’ back for a couple moments. His skin looked terribly soft. Despite his non-conventional stay at the castle and his first two weeks of horribly handled captivity, his skin looked like that of a prince. Soft, and very, very healthy. The color was pretty, too. Everything about this man had its beauty in some way, and Gladio hated to acknowledge that.  
“…you’ve got a tiny scar on your back, you know?” Gladio asked, changing subject, but the voice staying calm and low not to scare him. “I wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for this fire and this angle” _or if I wasn’t looking this much at you_ , “but it looks old. What is it from?”  
“…I sometimes hunt” was Ignis’ short explanation. Gladio, trying to really come with some conversation to distract the man from his fear (which he had tried to hide but the beast had noticed), looked up at him, finding the back of his head again.  
“You hunt” he repeated. “I suppose that’s when you’re not a teacher.”  
“Or doing ‘servant activities’” Ignis agreed. 

Gladio knew both were being sarcastic like usual, except it felt totally different than that ‘usual’. For some reason, it did not anger him this time. It did not make him smile as if he had taken the comment into the joke spectrum, but, for the first time, talking with the man was not angering him.  
The Shield contained a sigh when he realized that Ignis had not stopped to fear. Ever since the first contact, even seconds before it, Ignis had been shivering. And it was not the ice what caused him to do it.  
“Calm down” Gladio muttered at him. “I’m really not going to hurt you.”  
Ignis did not reply. Did not say it was okay, or that he knew, or anything. Gladio did not need any other answer but that silence to know what kind of things the man could be thinking. 

After a few more moments, Gladio sighed and turned not to look at him and took the bag away.  
“Done” he muttered and left towards a table, where he dropped the wet cloth. Ignis, at his time, pulled his shirt back up and started putting it on again. Gladio looked at him for some moments, but feared Ignis would notice so he turned again, moving a hand up to scratch his chest, a bit uncomfortable. Only then he remembered he was shirtless, and even though there was nothing intimate on that, he still felt embarrassed. He had never once forgotten he was a beast, but for a second he had feared Ignis would turn and see all of his body was dark brown fur and not a human body. He knew that Ignis would find it perfectly natural and would not glance twice or question him, but that was because, to the man, Gladio had been born and had grown a beast. Gladio, on his part, knew that he had not always been like that, and it embarrassed him to be seen in his current form. This was not him. But he could not explain that to Ignis. 

“You should…go to sleep” Gladio told him without looking. Ignis nodded, without looking either. Another of those long-lasting silences returned, as if both were expecting for the other to move first and none giving in to be that person. It was Ignis who, after a minute or two in a heavy and uncomfortable silence, stood up with a sigh and started heading to the door. He said nothing when he exited the room. 

Gladio stayed there a few more seconds. Suddenly, he felt something pulling from his pants, so he looked down and found Noctis standing there, looking up at him with his bright even when dark blue eyes. His king looked serious. The clock nodded towards the way Ignis had exited and looked back at his Shield. Gladiolus sighed and put a hand up to his eyes for a moment. He knew what Noctis meant without needing to be told. 

When he exited the room, he found Ignis going up the staircase that headed to the left.  
“Ignis” he pushed out before he would overthink and coward away. He saw the man stopping on the steps and turn his way, but his eyes were somewhere else, feeling something that did not let him fix his eyes on the beast’s. Gladio tried not to mind and contained a sigh. For a moment he had expected the man to ignore him, so now that he had his attention he was not sure if he really knew what to say. “Listen…I uh…” he scratched his neck again, staring away for a moment. He sighed to calm himself and forced his eyes to stay on Ignis. “I know that…you’re not enjoying of this. I’m aware it’s…tough.”

Ignis did not say anything and stood there, expecting something else.  
“I really…just want to say…” Gladio tried to continue. “…I’m…I want you to understand, I have bigger reasons to do this than I’ve told you…” he stopped almost as if expecting Ignis to say he understood and that it was fine, but of course the man did not understand and things were not ‘fine’. Gladio forced himself to find correct words. “And I really can’t explain them…but I really want you to understand, this is not my personal, childish tantrum…I’m doing this because I…I am protecting something…bigger…and much more important than just myself.”

The man at the staircase was paying attention, but he seemed to have gone mute. However, by then he had already managed to fix his gaze on the beast, and both shared some uncomfortable moments of looking at each other.  
“Listen…I really can’t let you out just yet” Gladio stated as softly as he could, but no matter what way it could be delivered, it was the meaning what mattered. He saw Ignis’ head moving slightly down again, but the man nodded, like a man that accepting his tragic destiny because there was nothing he could do about it. “But…that doesn’t mean you can’t make yourself…” _at home?_ “…comfortable. During…the time you stay…”

Gladio was a bit scared of looking up and finding the man staring at him with sarcasm, so he did not look but tried to dissimulate he was not looking. Ignis wore glasses, so there was a chance that, with the distance and how tired the man was, he would not notice Gladio’s eyes were not directed his way. The man said nothing once more.  
“It’s nothing personal” Gladio repeated to him the same words he had once already said back in the living room. He dared to look at Ignis this time, and found the man staring away like a son being nagged. “Would if I could tell you why I’m doing this. But you’ll have…” _to trust_ , “…to understand. It’s nothing personal.”  
Keeping the eyes on Ignis, he saw him nod, not glancing the way of the beast. Gladio nodded at his time and whispered to himself a quiet ‘Yeah’. 

There was silence for the millionth time. When Gladio stared away, his gaze caught the usual trio reunited by the door of the living room, out of Ignis’ range of sight. Iris, like she had previously done, nodded the way of the human, silently requesting something from her brother. A tiny and subtle groan of nerves rather than anger sounded in Gladio’s throat, not knowing how to handle this.  
“And…Ignis” he called, and the man turned to look his way, if only putting the head down. Gladio felt his heart skipping a beat inside his chest; it was the third time in his life he said the name, but it was the first he had let it out calm and in all consciousness. It felt…really good in his mouth. Very strange and with a sensation similar to putting a shoe the wrong size on, but nice nonetheless. Like warmth. It almost felt like calling Noctis’ name; like family. Only a bit…stranger. He guessed the man had to have felt something as well, even if only disgust, to have finally reacted even if just that slight movement of the head. Gladio took some moments. He breathed in and closed the eyes.  
Eventually, he pushed the words out.  
“…thank you.”

That seemed to have caused a bigger reaction in the man, because he suddenly looked up, if carefully, and finally looked straight into Gladio’s eyes, despite the great distance between them. They looked at each other some moments, before Gladio shied away and lifted lightly the bandaged arm and dropped it again.  
“Uhm…in a…non-personal way” he said as if wishing to lift up the mood. He, however, sighed while understanding it was no time for jokes and looked away, having to internally smash his pride for once and all. “In a personal way. Thanks. And I’m…” Gladio stopped and swallowed. It had taken him hours. Days. Only now that the words hung from his tongue and tried to stay there, he realized they had been inside him for weeks. Perhaps since he had first properly met Ignis…the rational Gladio. Which was back when taking him from his captivity in the tower.

He had wanted to say it ever since, and had not been able until that day. Until that messed, terrible day. Until seeing him almost dying one, two, five times. Until almost dying himself. Until having to see the man nurse him. Until hearing him open his heart even if only a bit.  
Until needing to be slapped on the face by destiny to understand.  
“…I’m sorry.”

Because he had senselessly argued with him, had made him storm out of every room in the castle countless times, had caged him with vaguely any chance of food and water, had offended and rejected him when he had tried to be nice, because he had almost killed his father, had scared the hell out of him every day, because he could not hold himself and had almost murdered him more than three times already, because he kept him locked away from the world and his life and beloved people…  
Because, if Gladio had to pick one reason from the many he had on why he had not been able to keep eye contact with the man during that night, he would choose the fact that his paws were marked in a deep if blurred purple color all on Ignis’ neck until painting almost every inch of it.

Ignis reacted even more to that, but he kept it subtle, like everything else in his life. Gladio kept the eyes on him and watched the man become nervous in some way. It was clear, even if he would had shown no reaction, that Ignis had never expected those words. He looked at the beast, but quickly glanced some other way, and repeated a couple of times, blinking more than usual or necessary, in clear anxiety of sorts. From the distance, Gladio saw the man forcing a sad and quick smile at him, the type of lip-stretching to the sides that one gives when wishing to show forced agreement and not joy. Ignis added a quick one-movement nod at him, before entirely looking away and retaking his way upstairs, in a clear end of the conversation; he would not hear more, and he would not say anything else. He could not handle so much in one sole day. 

The beast watched him as he left and until he could not be seen, hidden by the hallway and its walls. He was not sure if he had expected anything; to be thanked for the apology, any apology back, to be entirely rejected…he was not sure, and did not take Ignis’ half-nod as anything personal. He did not need to be his friend or to know him better to simply realize the man was, this time for real, not okay. With that uptight and brave attitude, Ignis would have gone all night sassing him around if he needed. All the silences he delivered across their time together, the small replies, and the forced smile and nod…that was not him; had Ignis been alright, he would have said something hurtful and upsetting, would have angered Gladio almost on purpose, and would have calmly walked away with the chin up like he was the king of the place and nobody could tell him otherwise. Never would have he smiled, looked away, kept quiet and retire to his room, like a vulnerable hostage with no free will or hope.  
He was not arguing. And, more worrying, he was not keeping the head up. At least that night.  
The beast did not enjoy of the idea and the realization, but he guessed that, perhaps, as a possibility only and still not for sure, maybe he had finally done it.  
Maybe Gladio had broken him. 

At least that was what he thought and how he felt. It could have been anything else, something else, but whatever it was, Gladio could link all and any reasons to himself. Himself, the source of Ignis’ problems. Gladio, weak enough to not tame the beast inside himself and let it take over; letting it terrify Ignis to the point of having him jump out of a fourth floor only to avoid him; letting it be so tough with him to break who could have been the bravest man Gladio had ever known so far. To bring down his courage…because, no matter how unnerving and stressful the man was, it took some guts to stand a few feet from a beast and tell it straight to the face that it smelled like wet dog.  
But now he could not, and, head down, he did as he was told and left to his room. Like a prisoner.

Gladio passed a hand through the fur on top of his head and sighed heavily. He stood there some more moments in silence before looking back at the door of the living room both had previously been in. Some furniture, including the usual trio, were there, looking at him. None had said a word all over the night and some still kept the eyes slightly bigger than usual. The beast gave the usual trio a questioning stare without needing to speak, and the three went towards him. He leaned down and picked them up, letting them climb on him, so he, like usual, could simplify their way to their rooms. 

The three, however, asked to stay with him that night.  
He did not complain.

\--

Gladio was protecting the entire kingdom. Or so he tried, in some way.

When the curse erased their existence from the memories of the people of Lucis, they had died. Like history books being burned; when there was nothing that said or showed they had once existed it was like they had never really done. To be forgotten was a way of disappearing, of dying. Despite having walked among the city only days prior to the curse, to have shaken hands of countless people, to have stood in the middle of crowds, to have presented public speeches, opened stores or schools, king Regis and prince Noctis now had never existed to the people, and all those actions and events had not happened even when they had. With them died the memories of the Amicitia family as well. All the workers, advisers, families of Council. Names, titles, actions and lives forgotten. To not be remembered as an equivalent of having never existed. 

The people at the castle had gathered many times and had spoken. The survivors of the council had attempted to make Noctis resolve things, like the curse could be broken with one touch of the Crystal, like he had any power over any of this. Noctis, fifteen, was not only young and unexperienced, he had also just survived a treason attack, a curse, had lost his father and only family left, and had lost his entire kingdom. Of course, the pressure had him run away from all troubles at first. Many people put all their expectations on him simply for the fact that, whether they liked it or not, he was already king only by the fact of being the only living Lucis Caelum.  
To charge a teenager with responsibilities not even adults could deal with, and pressure him into getting it done quickly like it was nothing…it had, of course, not worked.  
But Noctis had pushed himself to grow up before it was his time, and by age seventeen it was himself who would start gathering the council and try to put some order in things.

By that time, they had almost given up on trying to find a solution for the curse. Noctis, as king of Lucis, had decided they had thought too much about their curse, but had never once thought outside the castle. Worrying for the people of the outside instead of himself, Noctis came to some solutions.  
Not let the people of Lucis know what had happened to him and the rest of the castle.  
Being forgotten was not delightful, but in some way it was the best for the people of the outside: that way, they would not have to mourn the prince’s transformation and slow death. If he and his servants and partners had never existed to them, nobody would have to lament their situation. 

If they knew about the fate of the royal family, heart of the kingdom, they would be terribly discouraged. If they remembered they had once been under a perfect protection, where daemons were vaguely seen, and those who were there could be brought down by a perfect elite group of trained soldiers instead of untrained townsguards, where people dying and falling sick was not usual, where magic ran everywhere, where daylight shined brighter, where the cities were all united in one big City of Insomnia and not ten separate, tiny towns, where the conditions were a hundred times better for everyone…and realized that now it was all gone and there was nothing to do to save the prince, who could bring all of that back by the mere touch of a hand, to have him there, to see him there, to know him there, but to be completely and irremediably unable to aid him or save him, and Lucis with him…  
It was disheartening. Discouraging. Disheartening to the point of bringing down an entire kingdom.  
And Noctis did not want his people to be brought down in the heart.

Insomnia and Lucis could have fallen into sudden poverty and grown infested of daemons and magic had disappeared, but the people were hard-working, faithful, brave and stood tall against everything. They could take their kings and magic from them, but their souls were those of a fierce Fenix that would never stop flying.  
And, so long Noctis could help it, he would not let that disappear. He would not let his people’s souls shatter and break.  
And if to achieve that he needed to stay hidden in the castle, turned into a tiny clock, dying with every passing month, forgotten forever by his people, he would accept his destiny gladly and with pride. If he could not save himself and his household, if he could not save himself and bring Lucis back to its glory, safe days, then he would do the only thing he could; not let his people get discouraged, so they could carry on the way there were doing so far, until they really would not have the Lucis Caelum with them. Not let them know the truth so they could carry on once he really was gone. A king’s legacy and last gift to his people: not let them fall. 

Being forgotten was not an easy matter, and Noctis had not been supported by most of the castle in a beginning. But, despite his form and age, he had spent time with himself, enough to transform on the inside and adopt the air of what he really was: a _king_.  
A king by nature, with the passing years his presence alone had come to be enough to encourage the people of the Citadel to the point they did not accept their destiny forcefully but by own desire. Noctis had forced himself to grow so much and so fast in such little time, that the only presence of the clock was enough to _want_ to bow and offer eternal loyalty to him.  
Which was what happened in the castle, and why all the furniture agreed to pretend they did not exist if that was what their king requested for.  
If King Noctis CXIV said he was accepting his death in silence, his people would accompany him the same with pride.

That was the reason Gladiolus had raged at the Scientia family’s intrusion.  
Gladio was born and raised as Shield to Noctis. He was to him what his father Clarus had been to king Regis: second hand, best friend, brother. Guardian. Most loyal companion through everything. If Noctis asked him to die in his place, he would. If Noctis asked for no one to know about their existence, Gladio would do everything in his hands to do as told.  
Lock away a sick, grown man, and then cage away his son, for example.  
It was clear he was being extreme, but that was the beast side of him. His rationality asked him to do something so the Scientia would keep quiet about what they had seen; the beast instincts asked him to make that answer a thousand times more aggressive than necessary. He had spent 5 years inevitably giving in to becoming an animal, so of course he would react like that; his human heart asked him to do as his King had requested, but the bestiality took his actions to an extreme point.

Gladiolus was not keeping Ignis in the castle simply because he feared the Scientia would speak, town would go to the castle, and he would be hunted and the furniture destroyed or stolen. Gladiolus was keeping him in the castle because he feared the Scientia would speak, town would go to there, and, watching the building, the emblems of the royal family, the throne room, the Crystal itself, or anything else, it could take _their_ curse away, which would cause them to remember about the Lucis Caelum.  
If they remembered, the discouraging would happen. And, for what Noctis had analyzed when he took his decision of staying hidden until death, the discouraging would break people on the soul. People with no soul was a kingdom not rising.  
A Lucis with no soul was a dead Lucis. 

Ignis had done more than invade Gladiolus’ privacy. He was walking on the extremely fragile thread of the entire destiny of a huge kingdom, deciding whether it would have a future or not.

If he had to be personally hated by Ignis, and if he had to be seen as a disgusting, sick, twisted, aggressive and horrendous beast by the man’s eyes instead of his true being and form only to fulfill his duty towards his king and his kingdom…Gladiolus would. His king was priority before himself. His king before a sick man or his son. His king before his personal feelings.  
Maybe he handled it too strictly, but he really had bigger reasons to do as he had been doing.  
But, like one could understand, he could not explain any of that to Ignis no matter how much he wished to.

 

He did not see Ignis the day next to that messed up night of invaders in the castle and daemons in the forest. He did not hear him around, either. There were no signs of him strolling anywhere, poking the nose anywhere, opening any doors, nothing. Gladio did not see any washed dish in the morning or afternoon. Ignis always cleaned what he used when he ate, but there was nothing, like he had not appeared to eat anything in the day.  
The gossip around the castle, the entire day, went on the invaders of the previous day and “the guy returning on his own”. Gladio was not the only one that could not understand how Ignis could have dropped all his golden chances to leave and had returned, only to save the Shield’s life. It was almost impossible to believe there was someone who valued formality for over personal necessities and desires. If there was one righteous man, that had to be Ignis.  
Other than those topics, the furniture did not seem to have anything to say about the human that day, because nobody had seen him across the hours.

Except for the usual quintet of friends (the usual trio plus Luna and Talcott). They had, however, not said anything about Ignis either during all day. Gladio had had little motivation as well, but he did his usual routine; eating in required times, training and reading. Very little things changed in his every day; that once, he had go to check on the windows Ignis had broken the previous night. The holes were small, but there was no repair to the glass, so he had to go look in old and abandoned warehouses to see if by mere causality he found a pair of windows to replace those. While he did, he remembered to have seen Ignis’ hands trembling at night the entire time, more noticeable when he had been sewing. Gladio had guessed back then that it was out of tiredness and fear, but it turned out to seem he was also hurt. Like Gladio needed any more guilt. 

He went the entire day without a single sign that said there was somebody else (that was not a piece of furniture) in the place besides himself. Which worried him in a way he had not felt before; for once this did not make him suspicious or angry. Ignis’ sudden disappearance made him…simply that, worried. He knew the man was in the Citadel and had no intentions of trying to go out, so it was not a paranoid worry. It was a worry into the sad spectrum, to say at least, but Gladio attributed that to the fact that the entire castle was drowned in some nostalgic or saddened air ever since the previous night. Nothing personal.

It was before going to bed when he decided to change subject while talking with his sister.  
“Iris” Gladio called softly, not looking at her, sat at the edge of his bed. “Uh…how is…how is he?”  
The tea pot gave him her usual big eyes and not a smile. After a few moments he turned to her, expecting his answer.  
“Uh…he’s…doing better today!” Iris said while recovering the smile, looking away for a moment to look for words. “We applied ice to his back again, and the bruise is starting to-”  
“Iris…” Gladio interrupted her in a tone that expressed the rest of his sentence in that lonely word. The tea pot stayed quiet and looked away. She understood, from the very beginning, and had only tried to not speak about it. No option left, he sighed.  
“…he’s a bit…sad” her eyes and voice went down as she spoke. “Today he didn’t get hungry in any moment, and he didn’t want to go for his daily exploration around the Citadel. He’s been in his room all day, literally” she looked up at her brother again, but remained serious. “Not in bed, though. And he’s not cried, not even last night, for what Talcott said. He’s been around his room and the bathroom, most of the time just looking out the window, but hasn’t come out and already went to sleep.”

“It’s just nine and half” Gladio said. Iris nodded at him with a glance that read she also knew this. The beast sighed and looked away.  
“Prompto checked him” Iris continued. “He really is sleeping, not just lying in bed.”  
“I don’t blame him” Gladio muttered, but he offered no further explanation.  
“Gladio…what if he’s depressed?” Iris asked with some pity. Gladio gave a non-amused and non-sarcastic little chuckle, looking away.  
“You said he hasn’t cried or anything” Gladio shrugged. “He can’t be sad. Maybe he’s just…really not hungry or in the mood.”  
“You don’t need to cry to be sad” Iris reminded him, but her brother offered no answer to that.

None of the siblings said anything for a moment. And it was, as both had expected to a certain point, the tea pot who broke the silence.  
“Gladio…I know I’ve told you many times before, but…”  
“I know” Gladio muttered, but he did not seem to be angry. Not towards her, at least.  
“Gladio…Ignis let go of his freedom and the chance to go back to his home and his family and his friends and his normal life only for _you_ ” she said softly and lowly to him, trying to put the required emphasis on her phrase. “He returned only to save your life, even when the beast almost killed him…”  
“I know” Gladio repeated, softer this time. They waited some more moments without a sound.  
“I’m not telling you to free him” Iris shook lightly the head (which was basically her entire body), “and I’m not asking you to befriend him, not anymore…I just…really think you should be…less strict, if you don’t want to be personally kind to him” the tea pot continued. “Don’t give him flowers and don’t make him laugh if you don’t want; just give him a little more freedom. He walked back to the castle himself on his free choice, he’s definitely someone we can trust won’t break his word” she raised the voice a bit. “Let him be a while with his horse, let him roam in the gardens, there’s nothing-”

“Woah, okay, slow” Gladio put a paw up in a motion of stop, and Iris stayed quiet. The Shield did not look angered, but he did look alert this time. Still, she did not shy away. “One step by time, Iris.”  
The tea pot stayed quiet. The Shield looked away from her and sighed, looking at nowhere at all, lost in his thoughts.  
“…I knew I wasn’t being the most welcoming host” Gladio muttered after a while, and then turned to his sister again, the gaze soft, “but…more than just ‘not welcoming’, I’ve been…unnecessarily rude with him, huh?”  
Iris looked away with a small twist of her mouth, before looking back up at him, and she softly nodded, requiring of no words. Gladio gave her a small side-smile of agreement and looked away.  
“…and yet, he nursed me…” he said that while moving a hand up to touch the bandage of his arm very carefully, not seeming to notice what he was doing.

They spent some more time together in a comfortable silence. Eventually, Gladio laid in bed but did not prepare to sleep just yet. He usually brought a book to bed for those moments prior to getting under the sheets, but right now he only laid there, hands resting on his tummy, eyes focused on the ceiling and nowhere at all at the same time. Iris was not sure of what to believe her brother could be thinking or planning, if there was something in his head at all and not just blankness of not knowing how to handle the situation. 

Iris made herself comfortable on a pillow big enough for her to use as bed (even when she did not need to, being a tea pot), on a drawer, thinking there was not going to be more conversation for that day.  
Right as she was closing her eyes to prepare for bed, she had to open them again when her brother, in a voice that almost felt ethereal, like one who speaks without noticing the words, murmured into the silence.  
“…he’s not a bad guy, is he?”

Iris looked up and found him distractedly caressing the bandage of his right arm with a claw.  
She did not reply, because she knew Gladiolus would not have heard anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this slow chapter of theory and explanation. I require of it as a bridge to "second part" of the story.  
> Thank you for sticking through, nonetheless. :)


	9. Opening Windows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An apology for the extra-long chapter. I hope you enjoy, nonetheless.
> 
> Believe it or not, we ARE heading somewhere. Be patient; friendships aren't built in one day. :)

Sadness was not new to Ignis, but it was something he vaguely knew how to handle. 

On a normal life, Ignis found himself too busy every day since he could remember to ever stop and deal with “useless, hormonal troubles that will fade with age”, and when he had time for it, or when emotions were too overwhelming to contain them, most of the time, so long he could remember, he had forced himself to swallow it. At the same time he had started to learn all the house duties so that he could replace his mother, he had also started to learn that emotions and feelings were idiotic…if they were born from him. He understood other people dealing with them, and he encouraged them to let them blossom, but he found his own to be “mere obstacles.”

His father, while trying to hide it, was clearly in a deep pit of sorrow after having lost his wife…so Ignis felt it was wrong to go hug him and tell him he missed his mommy; his father did not need a reminder of their loss, kid Ignis had thought, so he never wanted to trouble his dad with his “silly feelings that will go with time”. It would be a reminder to his father, it could make him feel guilty, so kid Ignis simply hid that and never expressed what he was feeling back then. While growing up, and not wanting to trouble his already brokenhearted father, he had tried to go with his uncle. The man, however, since Ignis could remember and to contemporary days, would usually shut him “unless you want to treat any matter of importance”. Ignis had never felt good vibes from his cousin, so they barely ever spoke to each other, let alone open up about feelings.

Summing up, Ignis had grown with the self-inflicted philosophy that his feelings were an obstacle, which turned out in him rarely experiencing them strongly. For good or bad, depending on who saw it, Ignis had made of himself some sort of obedient machine who lived to work, do things right, learn what was necessary if he was requested something, order papers, go where he was told, do what he was told. And not that he was a brainless robot; he fought for what he believed to be right, followed his dreams, but he also ignored his internal struggles and sometimes desires for the sake of “not bothering others” or because “that has no use in my work”. On a few words, Ignis treated himself like a tool. He had to be of use in every moment, and feelings had no ‘applicable use’.

Ignis did not hate himself, did not find himself to be worthless or useless. He knew he was a valuable person. Internal love was not what he lacked of; what he had always needed to learn was to be explicit on that love and take care of himself physically and emotionally. He was a person that did not despise himself yet did nothing to take a proper care of himself. In his own philosophy, even though he did not acknowledge it with the same words, he believed he first needed to attend other people’s necessities, emotions, happiness, health and safety before his own. A guardian that could not admit to be shattering himself. Perhaps, if he had reached his goals, he would have eventually found his place in life, and would have developed the self-love he lacked of. The problem was that all his aspirations had been linked to the Lucis Caelum household.  
Same which did not exist anymore.

All and every goal Ignis had grown with had disappeared along his memories of the Lucis Caelum and what the kingdom used to be only a couple years back.  
What is a man supposed to do when his dreams are taken from him, without acknowledging he once even had them?  
What is a human being supposed to do when his rightful place in the world has been taken from him, and he cannot remember it had once been there?  
What is a person supposed to do with the skills they developed for a purpose in life once it is taken away?

On his part, Ignis, without the memories of what he had once wanted in life, found himself on a daily internal confusion he did not notice. He knew he wanted something, but he had no idea what. He knew he wanted to head somewhere in life, but where? It would be senseless to describe the spiritual struggle he had lived through all over five years with not a rest somewhere in between: it was something that surpassed common sense and comparisons to normal troubles, because this involved ancient magic, a curse of old set miles from his standing position and yet that affected his entire life until making a mess of it, at least on the heart. If he had worked hard to find his place in life that was because he was aware he did not belong in the one he had grown in, and he knew exactly where to go. 

But if that place did not exist and he had forgotten it once did, he could not remember he had to head there either. So he did not. He stayed in the place he was born and raised in. The place he did not belong in, away of what really had to be his home.  
Tired of his constant suffering that he did not notice himself, the Astrals, in a non-conventional way, had led him there, and he had yet to notice he was in his rightful place.  
But that is another matter that should be treated at its time.

 

Ignis had not thrown a tantrum out of his failed attempt of escape that night of intruders and daemons. It was sadness for real. Very strangely to him, it was real.  
At first he had not been sure on why he felt so terrible, and the mere fact of acknowledging he was feeling sad scared him and made him leave to his room and just stay there, lights out, head buried under the pillow. He had had to deal with sadness before, but this was overwhelming him like it had never done before. Despite the size of his sadness, he did not cry. He had been about to once or twice, but his self-training on swallowing the emotions had him repressing them until somehow calming his eyes down. He had found through his life that it is not how big the sadness is but rather the quality of it what could bring him to tears. It was a strange explanation, but he had managed to figure it out. Hence, he had no troubles containing himself that night. But nothing could help the great sadness that had him not coming out of his room in a whole day, not even for food.

At first he had thought he was merely exaggerating. He had gone through worse things than being a prisoner who had seen a glim of hope, then found himself back in his prison. Nothing he could recall, but he guessed it was not the worst scenario he could have found himself in, and he had been mentally prepared for it: it was his own feet and his own brain who decided to go back to the castle, after all; he knew this was to come. But, through his day of self-imprisonment and the head occupied with a tornado of thoughts, he had come to realize he was not exaggerating one thing: he had canalized a thousand other things in that one thing. He was not sad over having failed to escape: he was sad from all the subtext hidden in that concept.

To be more precise, he had focused all the sources of sadness in one other concept: Aranea. Ignis had felt bad both by knowing his friend was probably aching from his disappearance and by realizing, only once he had her four steps from him while unable to reach her, that he really did miss her. But that was not what had him self-locking in his room for a day.  
Ignis felt bad having to admit it, but that was the true: he was mostly seeing Aranea as a concept, not as herself.  
A concept that hid a thousand other things: home, to be more precise. 

Ignis had never felt he ever belonged anywhere he could remember to have once visited, but he had gone through twenty-two constant years of denying it to himself in an attempt of making his own heart believe it. It had not worked, but he still insisted. His only refuge, and what had kept him sane and relatively happy, had been home. And not Northern Insomnia, not even the pretty house on top of a tiny hill nearby the most popular windmill. His home was not a geographic place, nor was it a building.  
Home was the people he loved and who he had grown up with. Home was Cid, the man of the workshop, and Cindy, and his now-passed cat Flamma, and Aranea. Home was his father. 

Having had Aranea so close had not only been having _her_ in his reach and out of it, it meant he had been only four steps from _home_. Again, he felt wrong for seeing his friend as a concept rather than who she really was, but it was inevitable. He realized only during his day of thinking in his room what it had really meant to him, and why everything was affecting him so much. He had not let Aranea go. He had let home walk away of him.  
No matter how comfortable he was in his royal guest room with his royal guest bathroom and the royal kitchen with royal decoration, truth is he had been away of the only thing that had kept him in emotional safety through his life. It was not that he hated the castle or that he could not learn to make himself home in there. It was that, the memories gone, he had not identified where he was. Not able to see home, ‘home’ as a concept was still his family and friends; taken from them, he had been taken from the only emotional refuge he had ever had. He had been taken from his safe, comfort zone.

To this was added the fact that, in the castle, Ignis had no responsibilities. If he had been able to ignore himself and dodge the emotions when they tried to hit him, that was because he could always distract himself with something “important” to do. If something harmed him on the inside, he could pretend he did not have time to let himself feel it if he needed to go downtown for a new hammer, or if he needed to arrange papers for his uncle, or if he needed to take his father to the doctor. Every time he was about to break down, he forced the shattered pieces on their place by simply pretending something “much more important” was happening and required attention.

Right now, in the castle, he had nothing to do. At least nothing “important”, he had no ‘duty’ in the strict sense of the word. There were things to do, rooms to explore, a few books to nose in, the kitchen, his friends. But all of that was but distractions, every-day ways of losing time. There was no one asking him for a precise something in certain time limit. There was no proper job or work important enough or formal to become a must. Hence, Ignis had ‘nothing to do’. Nothing to do meant he had time for those feelings that he constantly fought not to have. Unavoidably, all the sadness broke through him like water breaking a dam.

He was not perfect. He was a human being with emotions, and emotions cannot be helped. They come in through the door on their own, no matter whether you ask them to or not, and only they choose themselves when to leave. The only thing up to one is how to handle them, how to express them, and how to help them take their place and leave each at their respective time.  
Just like that, Ignis could not help the sadness, but he also understood it was perfectly normal and that it would eventually go away.

Even though his heart still had not fully healed, his stomach worked perfectly fine and ordered him to get something. So, resigned, Ignis came out of his room on the second day. His body still ached a bit, but not as terribly as the previous day. Pain only appeared after that night, once the adrenaline had faded and once the muscles had cooled to freeze inside him. Only then he noticed that _everything_ ached, with special pain on his bruise on the back and his throat.  
With a small groan every time he had to get up, Ignis left to the kitchen that morning. He was not feeling specially well, so he asked the stove if he could, please, cook in Ignis’ place that once. Nobody argued him back, and he sat patiently awaiting his food.

He found the furniture to be especially quiet, both the ones he had befriended and those who were only acquaintances. The air was a bit awkward, and most furniture stared at him, mostly the ones who were not his friends. He did not need to be a genius to know that he had to have become the latest gossip, the prisoner who returned on free will. It was not flattering, but he did not find it insulting either. Prompto and Noctis kept him company on breakfast. Ignis knew that those two worried most on him, and he silently thanked their silence. The last he needed was to be asked what was wrong or if he was alright. He found it senseless to talk about those things, and even if he had wanted, he had never opened up fully to someone he barely knew, so he kept it private. None the candelabra nor the clock insisted on him, in any moment.

There was little he did during that day. He returned to the living room where he and the beast had last talked together (if he did not include that unexpected apology and attempt of explanation when he had been at the staircase) to look for the shirt he had been mending that night. It had not been there, as the furniture had taken it away to wash it, but a shelf made sure to bring it to him. The box of the other day joined him, as it carried with more thread and needles for him. Because there was very little he could or wanted to do in the castle that day, he spent the while mending the cuts on the shirt, taking his time to see if time flew faster that way. His usual friends did not bother him; he seemed to want space, so they gave it to him.

He left to his room when it was time for Gladiolus to go downstairs for dinner.  
Ignis was not sure if he could handle seeing him after all that had happened. Still, he left the fully mended shirt on the chair, hoping the beast would see it really had not been beyond repair.

\--

Ignis entertained himself a couple hours with a book he had found lying around in one of the rooms he had explored in previous days. He had expected, as he believed the castle had not been occupied in centuries, that there would be more books, but that they would also be written in ancient Lucian, pages breaking apart, but he had found some of them very well preserved, and the language was almost contemporary. Ignis paid no attention to that and guessed that maybe the language had evolved very poorly and subtly in the past centuries, and not like he could have believed at first. He could have spent the whole afternoon on it if Noctis had not come through the door, calling for his attention.

“Hey, Ignis?” the clock called while making his way inside, pushing the door with both of his small hands. The human, lying on his bed, looked up from the book at him, serious like always. “Could you…eh…give us a hand?” Ignis closed the book and put it at a side at the time he sat up, while Noctis spoke, a bit breathless from the way he had to walk and having to push the door on his own. “I uh…Prompto did it again and…well, he got himself stuck and it’s a bit too far from my reach, so uh…”  
“I only hope he is alright” Ignis sighed while coming to his feet, going closer to the clock and leaning down to pick him up. He was a bit heavy for a clock but nothing that gave Ignis any troubles, and besides, Noctis had twice the trouble than other furniture to walk the distances of the castle, so he kindly picked him to save him the walk. “Would you tell me which way?”  
“Yeah, uh…left” Noctis pointed, facing the outside the way Ignis carried him, an arm under the clock’s feet and the other hand on his head to keep him safe from falling. 

Ignis exited his room and started taking the path to the left. As he went, Noctis subtly looked up at him to see if the man noticed the change in the castle, but while they kept going, the human had shown no reaction. Noctis rolled the eyes and could not help a small side smile, waiting for the moment of realization. He pointed some other hallway and Ignis turned there, calm. By this point Noctis was not sure if he had to worry that Ignis had yet not said or done anything in response to the very obvious change, but the clock guessed that Ignis was either still too busy in his head to have noticed, or that he paid to it no major attention because it seemed like a very daily, usual thing, and he had probably forgotten it had been all an issue a little time ago.

There was, however, no way Ignis did not notice by the time they reached the furniture in distress.  
“Well, it’s here” Noctis said with a lazy sigh, and Ignis stared around, calmly, though he did not spot anything but an open window.  
“Noctis…if you could be a bit more preci- in the name of the Astrals, Prompto, what are you-!?” Ignis tensed and tried to stay calm, sighing and hurrying to him.  
“A-ah! Ignis! Thanks Shiva you’re here!” the candelabra joyfully but very nervously cheered, hands holding to the handle of the window, hanging from it as only way to avoid falling to the ground six floors down and the body squirming a bit. Prompto laughed with nerves as he spoke. “I-I think I need a little help, buddy!”  
“How did you-!?” Ignis had tried to rush but cut himself midways and sighed heavily but shortly, clearly trying to keep calm. He hurried on putting Noctis on the floor, but he was careful on it as well, before he reached half the body out of the window. He put a hand to the border for safety and stretched the other hand ahead.

The window was halfway open, but that was the largest distance that there could be, as the angle was that of ninety grades according to the castle’s walls. Prompto hung from the handle, squirming a bit every time the window moved to either side, clearly very nervous and not hiding it. Ignis was a bit amazed to know this candelabra had been alive for five years and had yet not died; the man had only a couple weeks in there and he had learned Prompto had a tendency of getting in troubles, not only with others but also on his own. He was like a child, and Noctis was no better. Both were a childish mess that Ignis had started to look after as if he was their older brother or a father to them. Both had their serious times and were mature, Ignis had learned ever since the first day he met them, but on a daily, usual treatment, these two were always breaking something, hanging from somewhere, pulling pranks or stumbling down the staircases. Only the Six knew how they were still alive.

Ignis had no major troubles on reaching for Prompto, gripping him from the column. He pulled himself and the candelabra back inside.  
“Phew! Thank you, buddy!” Prompto cheered and let his body go limp, letting out a long half-exhaled ‘Ah’, still held in Ignis’ gentle fist. “I saw my life before my eyes, dude! I thought it was the end, it was horrible, you have no idea.”  
“I am not going to question your motifs, Prompto, but I do feel the necessity to ask you to be more careful in a future” Ignis started nagging him, but his voice, like usual, stayed calm and low. He had a subtle hint of a frown upon his face, but the candelabra did not take it personal; he and the other friends had learned with time that this was Ignis’ average look. “You two are constantly getting in troubles, I do not quite understand how you survived on your own before I arrived.”  
“We don’t know either” Prompto said with a happy look.

Ignis sighed and put him down on the floor besides Noctis, who smiled childishly as well.  
“Phew, thank you, Noct. When you said you were abandoning me I didn’t think you’d actually leave” the candelabra turned to his friend, and Ignis watched for a moment. “And then I thought you were kidding but you were not coming back and, oh man, I thought I was gonna die for a second there.”  
“See, you’d be dead if it wasn’t for me, you’re welcome” Noctis replied with a proud smile, and the candelabra decided to shove him friendly. The friends started a childish argue and fight, and Ignis merely sighed; these two were going to kill each other one day.  
“Despite having said I would not question your motifs, Prompto, I also do have to say you had no reason to open the window” Ignis interrupted them, reaching outside again. He pulled the dual windows closer before he could get a proper grasp of the handles.  
“No, buddy” Prompto called loudly, hopping towards him to pull from his pants as a way to call his attention, “keep them open!”

“I cannot do that” was Ignis’ comeback, shutting the windows and starting to secure them.  
“No!” Prompto let out long and false-dramatically but not screaming. “Why are you closing them!?”  
“I don’t want him to believe I-!”  
The three stayed quiet after that. Prompto kept the wide eyes on him for a moment, but as the silence continued he looked back at Noctis, who gave him an expression of understanding. Ignis, on his part, kept the eyes lost in nowhere on the handles. He swallowed and then closed the eyes. It had been a small phrase that he did not finish, but it had been a way of expressing something way much bigger and deeper. He had been denying it at first, had admitted it to the furniture friends once, and then he had started to deny it to himself again…but now he had come to accidentally admit it once more.  
It seemed to be that he needed to be almost murdered to say that he really feared Gladiolus.

He took in a breath and closed the eyes for a few moments. The furniture had heard so there was no point on trying to pretend he did not say it. He looked down at them.  
“I do not want him to believe I am…” Ignis stopped there, because he had been about to pick a word he did not like. It would have made him feel vulnerable, and it would remind him he was not the one in control. Which was pretty much the last thing he needed to remember. “…ignoring his order of keeping the windows closed. I am aware that this is the sixth floor, but with how sensitive he seems to be in the matter, I do not doubt that-”  
“Ignis, you’ve got it all wrong” Noctis interrupted him. The man stayed quiet and fixed his eyes on the clock’s blue ones. Noctis seemed unimpressed and even a bit bored. “ _He_ asked us to open them.”  
“…h-he asked what?” Ignis could not help the surprise, but the question was a murmur accompanied by the furrowing of his eyebrows.

“Huh? Ignis, buddy, I thought you had noticed?” Prompto asked him as if though Ignis had just said it was raining outside when there was a cloud-clear day on them. “ _All_ the windows are open.”  
Ignis gave him a questioning gaze, but without a word he looked at the hallway he had walked only a minute back.  
_All_ windows were open. 

Despite being covered in dust, the Citadel had many windows, most of them large, big and decorated in golden (which would be a great contrast to the black or white walls if it was not because the outside, like most of the inside, was dirty). There were hallways where the entire wall was but a giant window, or, like the case of the path Ignis had taken to find the candelabra, there were large dual windows all across the way. And, at least on that hallway, all of them were fully open.  
Ignis spent half a minute in surprise, quiet and not able to think or talk. It had not been so long since he had had a heated argue with the beast about things regarding this issue. 

_Gladiolus could not have…_  
And yet, there was the proof. Ignis, after recovering from the surprise, remembered his friends were there, and he felt himself fluster on the inside at the realization that he had walked quite a way from his room and he really had not noticed. He felt dumb. He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment before daring to look down at them.  
“Since…since when?” Ignis shook the head to himself. “I mean, today, but…are you sure that he asked for this? Did you not misunderstand the instructions or…?”  
“’Hey, you two, lift your lazy asses and do something useful and help open the windows’” Noctis recalled with a very failed impression of Gladiolus, deepening the voice, with the tiny arms shrugged like a dinosaur flailing around. The clock retook his normal posture and closed the eyes, going to his normal voice. “I think I heard pretty clearly.”

“Did he really…?” Ignis whispered more to himself rather than formulating the question to the furniture.  
“Yup!” Prompto replied nonetheless. “I think Big Guy realized he was being a bit of a brute head and decided to…I don’t know if it’s the word, but, maybe ‘mend’ that fight of the other day?”  
“Or compensate” Noctis suggested, and the candelabra crossed the arms, eyes up as if thinking, nodding slightly. “I mean, you do need some fresh air. You have lungs.”  
“Does he not?” Ignis questioned but he did not sound any sarcastic, but rather curious.  
“Of course he does” Noctis replied to him. “He just…I don’t know, ever since he…” the clock stopped for a second and thought of a different way to word his phrase. “…uh…ever since he, you know, uh…the curse, since the curse! He’s…” the clock looked away and his hand tried to reach for behind his head but it was not long enough, so it stopped at its side, where he scratched. “…not…too affectionate of…”

“Opening windows?” Ignis suggested gently with a very tiny hint of a joke, trying to lift the mood from the extra awkward air the clock suddenly took.  
“I guess” Noctis shrugged lightly and he seemed to have turned a bit serious. “You know, I guess he just…lost a bit of motivation and…you understand, how sadness works, that stuff. Sometimes makes you forget you should take care of your health.”  
“Yeah, Big Guy had some serious stuff going on, mostly the weeks after the curse” Prompto nodded, still staring up and looking (and sounding) as if though they were sharing a private conversation. “He’s had quiet some troubles handling it…”

Ignis nodded, but he did not understand. For a moment he tried to have that mental image, the beast coming to be sad, locking himself in a room. The image immediately remitted him to that moment with himself at the staircase and Gladiolus many yards away on the low level, apologizing to him. The man shook lightly the head and blinked not to remember, and he contained a sigh in his chest, lifting the chin to look around, at the end of the hallway and all the windows.

He remembered all that he had seen of the castle; the messed-up rooms, dust enough to drown an entire army, spider webs in every corner, everything darker than it had to be, all windows shut, and a chaos all in all. Ignis wondered, for a moment, and seen as Gladiolus was the prime guardian of the place, if the wrecked state and look of the castle could be a reflection of the beast’s own spirit and heart. Dusty, dark, self-neglected. And, then, Ignis thought about that metaphor with slight more depth: the castle was in this chaotic condition, but it had once, long ago, been golden and bright.  
He wondered if the metaphor was as correct, and the beast’s state had once been the same.

“Buddy?”  
Ignis blinked again and looked down at the furniture, still present. Both were looking up at him and he felt a bit bad, remembering he was tall enough for the average people, hence how giant he could be to those two, both as small. Not to make them uncomfortable, he went down to his knees in front of them.  
“Dude, were you listening?” Prompto asked him with a smile.  
“My apologies, Prompto…I believe I must have gotten lost in the havoc of my mind” Ignis replied, looking at him.  
“No worries, buddy” the candelabra said with the small flick of a sconce. “I was just asking if you really didn’t notice the windows were open, like, man” Prompto stopped here for a laugh. “Noct says you don’t notice if I don’t make you give me a hand.”

The clock shrugged with a small of his usual ‘Eh’.  
“You can’t deny it, Ignis” the clock side smiled as if mocking the man. “You really didn’t notice.”  
“Dude” Prompto laughed. “You should check your glasses, Ignis.”  
“I am grateful for your worry, but I believe the graduation of my lenses is perfectly fine” Ignis said with a small lift of the chin, serious like always. Both of the furniture friends had also learnt with the passing days that the human was terrible at understanding when others were joking. He had his sense of humor, but it was a bit…strange to see. Not to say a bit unconventional. The guy delivered jokes as if he was a dad trying very badly to sound bad. “There is nothing wrong with my spectacles.”  
Noctis snorted and the man looked down at him with a tiny frown.  
The clock still seemed to be containing some laughter, keeping a hand close to his mouth.

Ignis closed the eyes for a moment with the frown deepening slightly, as if exasperated.  
“May I know what the fun is?” he requested, and the clock could not help a little laugh.  
“ _Spectacles_ ” Noctis mocked, looking away and smiling, eyes half-closed. “What is this, past century?”  
“So now we are making fun of my choice of words” Ignis said, crossing the arms in his always formal essence, as if indignant.  
“I’ve just always found it amusing that you insist on saying that word” Noctis shrugged, still smiling carelessly. “It’s like your motto or your signature.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow at him.  
“Say” Noctis looked up, still smiling, “’Ignis’ is too harsh. I’m just going to call you Specs.”

\--

After some nice conversation with the furniture, Ignis had spent the while slowly strolling through the sixth floor. From what he could gather from his every-time-closer-to-being-real-friends companions, there were open windows on many floors, but only the sixth one had all and every single one opened. It was not that they did not want air to fully ventilate through all the Citadel, but there were too many windows, it was almost ridiculous. It would have had been no troubles under normal circumstances, with human-shaped people that had it easy to walk around, to reach the handles, and to open and close them each day. Of course, they did not tell that to Ignis; not like he would understand they had not always struggled with such simple tasks as those. 

However, they told Ignis that Gladio had ordered every single one of the sixth floor opened. Truth was, it had been Noctis’ command after getting the request from Gladio to open the windows. Some furniture had questioned the king if it would not upset the beast, at which Noctis merely shrugged with a “He said ‘the windows’, never stated which ones or how many. So, all of the sixth floor, please.” It was not fully a lie; Gladiolus _had_ requested the windows opened, Noctis simply added his command to it. The castle would be well ventilated, but he had wanted the floor Ignis was at the most and in which he lived to have a more remarkable change in the air, very literally. Gladio still seemed upset about letting him outside the walls, so with such little chances for Ignis to go out even if only one step, Noctis wanted him to receive the most air and be as fresh as he possibly could be. The clock had noticed in Gladiolus (the only biological being among all the people in the castle) that staying locked, even if letting light in, was not healthy. Lungs needed more than just oxygen. They needed the fresh of the outside.

Ignis was grateful for it. Too much. Yet he expressed it too little, on a side because he had no idea it had been partly Noctis’ blame to have all the sixth floor ventilated, and on the other side because he had not realized how much he had really needed of opened windows until he was walking through the hallways, staring at the outside every time he passed by one of those, and sensing the gentle air on him, as if it was a spirit gracefully coming in towards him, embracing him in its body, cupping his hands with its hands, and softly leaning in for a kiss, disappearing only half a millimeter from his lips. He came to realize how different the castle felt with the windows opened. It seemed as if nothing had changed on the visual matter, but there was something that _felt_ different, in a very positive way.

Air flowed from the outside, gently refreshing the inside. The smell of the forest and the big garden outside invaded the castle and waltzed in the air. Even the quiet felt different. The way the light of the now summer sun made it in was in theory the same, but the sensation was that of something entirely stranger to the usual. It felt similar to wearing a loose shirt rather than a fit, usual one; in theory it is the same, there’s something on your body, it’s still clothing, the design and color could even be the same, but it felt lighter, more comfortable, and, in some way, it felt more _free_.  
He found himself to be amazed at how much such a simple action like opened windows could give the castle such a remarkable change, even if only on a sensation matter and not a visual one.

The dusty, dark, self-neglected castle only needed of a little care, and it could be golden and bright again one day, he thought.

He had, for a second, thought about looking for the beast, or, if he could not build courage enough up, send one of the furniture friends to him with the message, to thank him. It was true Ignis was scared of him, and that his throat was still completely painted dark purple in one giant bruise, but Gladiolus had saved him from a certain death, had attended one of his injuries afterwards, had thanked him, and had even apologized. He was not Prince Charming, but he was not acting like an animal towards him anymore. Under his thick anger and wild instincts, there was a civilized being that almost felt royal in some non-princely way.  
But Ignis decided not to thank him.  
His common sense told him that it would be admitting submission, not because being explicitly grateful was an inferiority sign, but because of the reason he would be showing himself grateful for.

Opened windows. Ignis had thought about going to his captor, who had almost murdered him enough times already, and thank him for _opening the windows_. Maybe he was just too exaggerated, too exigent, too harsh, but, in Ignis opinion, having a window opened was not a plus or a bonus, it was not a gift. It did not have to be a kind gesture to be thanked; it was a basic necessity. It was a human need, not an optional offer. Ignis would not show himself explicitly grateful for being given something his body literally needed of; it would have had been like when he was brought a glass of water after days of not tasting a single drop. He would be thanking something that he did not need to be grateful for, because it was supposed to be essential of the everyday. 

And still, he felt _very_ grateful, not necessarily only to Gladiolus, but rather to the situation, and he spent a good two hours sat on a windowsill, dangerously small for someone his size, but perfect for someone as gracefully agile as he was.  
How easy from there, the sixth floor, would it be for him to manage an escape, speaking of gracefully agile.  
He smiled at the thought, but never considered it seriously.

\--

By the day it would be two months since Ignis left Northern Insomnia (a week after that incidental night), he had already recovered as best as he could and his everyday continued like he had started getting used to. He had only not fully retaken his exploration throughout the castle. On a part he did not feel much in the mood for it, and on another part that he admitted less, he was somewhat scared of walking into the beast, who he rarely saw since that one night. The strange situation of nursing each other and apologizing to one another had not had the outcome he could have expected, of their relationship lightening, but rather turned into the total awkward.

He had had no intentions of facing the beast, and it seemed like Gladiolus had no intentions of seeing him either. And, whenever they heard each other walking close, both hurried their way back on their steps. It was the same mess than before that night, both running at the first sight or sound of having the other close, almost in a childish terror. The only difference was that they had not argued because they had not stumbled across each other, and they ran away as soon as they were about to. Ignis had to spend those days thinking about it, about why they feared to see each other even more than when they were at the edge of poking each other’s eyes with a fork.

He came to the conclusion that they were not scared of fighting. They were scared of actually treating each other nicely. 

After that strange night of nursing and apologies, Ignis could not say he hated the beast, and he did not feel to be hated on anymore. He had about zero personal trust in the beast, and he was in no way developing any sort of friendship nor desiring it, but he really did not longer feel like he was treating with an animal. And the fact that he knew Gladiolus was civilized drove Ignis to naturally start behaving towards him like a proper human being and not the beast he really was. Which, being Ignis, was formal and kind. And he was not sure if he could handle that. It would mean going out of his comfort zone. Attacking someone and arguing with them is much easier than befriending them, and he knew it.  
And, considering Gladiolus ran from him every time he saw the human, maybe the beast was feeling the same way.

Ignis did not feel guilty for not thanking the permission of opening windows, and he did not regret it. But he did feel in debt out of the other things previously mentioned: he knew and he was clarified many times that it was nothing personal, but even if it had been out of formality, Gladiolus had still _saved his life_ , and he had tried very hard to not be harsh with him. Ignis tended to anger him on purpose, and the beast only reacted, but he was actually trying to be…relatively good when Ignis did not open his mouth to snap something out at him. Maybe he was not so bad.  
Maybe Ignis had just not given him a chance.

 

He remembered about that one day in which he had decided to really try to be nice towards Gladiolus, and how the beast had ruined it. Ignis had wanted to do something that the furniture suggested would light Gladiolus’ mood, mostly out of self-interest; if the beast turned to a better mood, he would stop picking on the man, and it could also possibly earn a little more of his trust, which would speed up the process of freeing him. Wherever he looked at in his reasons to have woken up announcing he would cook for two, everything led to Ignis doing it for a personal reason with benefits to himself.  
This time, he could think about all those reasons…but they suddenly did not seem so true. 

He was not doing this only for himself, but he also did not expect the beast to try his cooking, go to him, hug him and befriend him. If he was not doing this for his own benefit but he also was not expecting any reaction from Gladiolus, then why did he ask Talcott to bring him twice the ingredients he required that night? Why did it feel like the right thing to do, chop twice the carrots, cook twice the amount of meat, take two different dishes?  
Whatever had encouraged him, he was cooking for two and he was, oddly, not regretting it.  
He was amazed at the way he felt zero hesitation, and hesitated on the lack of it.

He cut vegetables and cooked while thinking over and over, trying to decipher why he was doing this.  
With no explanation to himself, he took his bowl in hands to leave somewhere else, and he left a second, served one at the table.

\--

“…what is it, again?”  
“Your dinner.”  
“…cooked by him.”  
“Yup.”  
Silence.  
“…by Ignis.”  
“Dear Shiva, are you going to eat it or not, Gladiolus?”

The Shield of the King stood at a side of his usual chair, looking down at the bowl that still steamed a bit, the beginning of a frown on his face. Nobody moved or said anything while he only stared at the stew as if though by the only glance he could make it explode at some point. His sister, waiting at the table, rolled the eyes and sighed; her brother had five literal minutes standing there only watching the food and questioning the same things on eternal repeat. Prompto had heard the news and he was standing on a counter nearby, with Noctis at his side. The clock was especially eager about watching the first time Gladiolus would ever taste something cooked by Ignis, but he showed very little emotion besides a smile and attentive eyes. 

However, the waiting lasted all the while in which his Shield did but to stare at the bowl, unimpressed and quiet. After a couple moments he lifted a hand and everybody paid closer attention, but the only thing that Gladio did was to point at the bowl with a finger.  
“…my dinner” he said dryly again. The usual trio let the shoulders fall and rolled the eyes at the same time as if though they had choreographed it, with a sigh of exasperation.  
“Gladio, just sit and eat” Prompto said, having grown impatient, which was something to say with how deeply careful he always tried to be with everything he said to Gladio. “Ignis took his time to cook it for you, you won’t reject it like last time!”  
“It’s already served” Noctis nodded in agreement. “And it’s going to cool if you don’t eat it soon. Just go.”

“You don’t still think he’s trying to poison you, are you?” Iris directly questioned him with a chiding gaze. Her brother gave her a small glance back, still seeming unimpressed, and the finger still up as if he had forgotten he was pointing at the bowl. “Gladio? Even after, I have to remind you, _he saved your life!?_ ”  
“Well, one can’t always be sure” Gladio said and the tea pot rolled the eyes again. The Shield put the hand down and he leaned down so his face could be closer to the stew, and he cautiously sniffled on it twice, deep and slow each time. When he did, there was a sudden change in his expression; the hint of a frown faded and his eyes looked a bit bigger, as if something had caught him off guard in a soft and positive way. He, however, stood straight again and recovered his frown. “…hmm…suspicious…”  
“Just eat it, dammit!” Iris snapped loudly at him. “Holy Shiva, Gladiolus, I swear to the Six-!”  
“Wow, okay, cool down, Iris” Gladio turned to her, putting the paws up as if to prove himself innocent. “It’s easy for you to say it, but it’s…suspicious.”

“I saw him cook it” Talcott came from somewhere and was hopping across the table until standing at the pot’s side, smiling. “No poison!”  
“It’s not if he’s trying to kill me or not” Gladio said while not taking his eyes off the bowl. He slowly walked around his chair, eyes glued on the stew, like he was analyzing an important map. “It’s _why_ he did it.”  
“We told you, he’s a nice guy” Noctis told him from his place on the counter nearby, eyes half-closed and posture lazy from the boredom of the waiting.  
“I don’t doubt he’s a good guy” Gladio said, crossing the arms and glaring at the bowl, the steam now so subtle it was almost imperceptible, “I just don’t understand why he would ever be good _to me_.”  
“Don’t say that, Gladio” Iris started nagging him with the voice low, with more hurt rather than anger in the voice.

Before she could continue, Gladio moved a paw up to scratch his neck, usual sign from whenever he was thinking things through, glare on the food.  
“Have you seen his throat? It’s one giant bruise, I did it only some days ago” Gladio reminded them but he did not sound sad. It was a statement more, like admitting the sky is blue. “And it’s not like I’m super charming or handsome, you know?”  
“Well, it’s not like he needs a reason” Noctis said with a bit of exasperation, using his hands to motion his next words one by one, giving emphasis to each one. “He’s just…being…nice!” the clock sighed. “Why is it so hard to understand?”  
“Because you’re not the beast, that’s why” Gladio replied to him, frowning and moving his eyes up to the clock for a moment. “You’re an adorable and harmless clock, and I’m this horrendous animal. Of course it’s easy for you to understand his kindness towards you, but it’s strange, weird and not logic that he’s kind to _me_. It’s like preparing a cute cupcake to a wild and ugly behemoth. Nobody that’s sane would do that.”

“Behemoths can be adorable too” Prompto said and Noctis rolled the eyes at his friend’s words, muttering a soft curse. “I’d give one a cupcake if I could. So there’s nothing strange on Ignis cooking something for you either!”  
“That’s not helping, Prom” the clock told him lowly, and the candelabra only rethought what he had said, but changed nothing.  
“Gladio, stop overthinking about it” Iris suggested, hopping closer to her brother. “Just sit down and try it. What’s the worst that can happen?”  
“You rejected him once, Gladio” the clock reminded him from his place. “Don’t repeat the same mistake twice.”

The beast looked at them for a moment before looking down at the bowl again. He still spent some moments in silent hesitation. His frown deepened and he, slowly, sat down at his chair. He kept the glare on the stew all the time like he was about to deactivate an explosive weapon. While he hesitated and frowned at the food like expecting it to disappear if he stared long enough, the furniture paid attention. Talcott and Iris, from their place on the table and first row to it, looked up at him with their big eyes, excited. Prompto quietly shook the clock with excitement, and Noctis did not complain, keeping the eyes on his Shield.  
After more moments, Gladio leaned closer to it and sniffed it again. He reached even closer, very slowly. And, even slower, he let his tongue poke out through his lips, and he gave a tiny lick to the surface of the stew.

He sat up again and licked his lips, tasting, still frowning. The waiting almost seemed eternal in the excitement of the others, expecting any reaction.  
“…it’s nothing extraordinary” Gladio muttered after a while. He ignored the spoon at a side and he held the bowl with his hands, head reaching down to take a proper sip from it, and he sat up again, this time with more amount of the stew in his mouth. He tasted and swallowed. Everyone watched with attention. Prompto and Noctis had leant so much to get a closer look that they almost stumbled off the edge of the counter, but even after recovering they still stayed with attentive eyes and stretched body to look at the Shield. 

Gladio was still frowning, but something looked different in his eyes. He put the bowl down and let go of it, but insisted to look at it. His eyebrow twitched a bit while he did.  
“…wh-what wrong?” Prompto asked from his place, eyes big. “Did you…not like it?”  
“It’s not that, I just…” Gladio responded without turning to look at him, eyes glued on the stew. There were some meat pieces on it, and vegetables swimming around the brown mixture. “…it’s okay, I guess.”  
Noctis and Prompto shared a glance, and Iris and Talcott mirrored them without noticing, before all four pairs of eyes returned to the Shield, the furniture smiling widely and trying not to start jumping around. Gladio did not notice them and only blinked. He took the bowl again and reached down to eat from it, this time taking two mouthfuls in before getting away of it, except this time he did not sit straight and did not put the bowl down. Again, he stayed still, but it lasted less than the previous times. Before any could question him again, he had reached close to start constantly eating from it, like a dog would do (his usual way), but very calmly.

The furniture friends smiled and found themselves pleased when Gladio took a slow but uninterrupted eating pace. Noctis and Prompto high-fived and shared a little chuckle. The clock smirked with pride; he had known ever since Ignis first admitted to know how to cook that it would completely catch Gladiolus if he ever tried it. The Shield did not seem to be heads-over-heels for the stew, but he had not rejected it and that was enough. He ate calm and slow, unimpressed.  
The only thing that betrayed him from hiding what he was really feeling were the animal instincts: like any other emotion Gladiolus experimented in too-great amounts, like too much anger blinded him into his animal side, pleasure could do that too. And, too great for him to handle, he accidentally let himself go on half consciousness, and he started desperately eating.

The furniture friends gave him wide eyes at the sudden change. At first slow, Gladiolus was now suddenly licking and taking bites from the stew quickly and furiously, like a dog that has not eaten in days. Prompto had found it funny at first, but a few seconds later he was shrugging the face in some disgust at the noises Gladiolus was making while chewing and swallowing, with intermittent growling and snorting in between. They watched him in silence, uncomfortable but too moved by seeing him so hyper about a mere bowl of stew. It only took seconds for him to cup the bowl in his paws and bring it up, throwing the head back while letting all the content still left to eat slip into his mouth at once. He put the bowl down and he let out a sigh after swallowing the food, and his tongue started looking on his lips for the leftovers on them. 

Prompto gave a very low “Ew” but he smiled nonetheless. Noctis, at his side, snorted and tried to contain the laughter; how sure he had been this would happen, and how right he had been. Gladio continued licking his lips for a moment, and he started coming back to his full senses. As he did, he realized what he had done in front of his friends, and the look on his face eventually shied away, but he tried to dissimulate. He heard a tiny giggle from a side and he only pretended to not have heard, feeling his face burning and thanking Shiva for once that he was all fur covered, and he moved a hand up to hide his mouth for only seconds while he cleared his throat.  
“So” Iris recalled with childish pride after some moments of silence. Gladio’s eyes moved up at her, but he kept the head slightly down, embarrassed, “nothing extraordinary?”

The Shield frowned with deep embarrassment and felt his face burn harder, his eyes moving to a side. He heard his sister and Talcott laugh together for some moments.  
“Well, alright, it was…good” Gladio said while still holding his frown and slightly pouted lips, crossing the arms.  
“How much?” Prompto teasingly questioned from his spot, and Gladio did not turn to look at him but rather the total opposite side, his eyebrow twitching.  
“It was just _good_ , stop it” the Shield said with a non-threatening anger rising. The furniture had grown to learn when things could get serious and they had to shut it, and when it was alright to joke around against him. “I could have…let myself enjoy it a bit too much, but it’s nothing special” he raised the voice even more at the last part of his words, turning to point at the clock and the candelabra with a finger. “It’s just, I haven’t had a dish prepared by human hands in years, okay? It’s not _who_ cooked it, it’s…just…even if it had been anyone else, I would have…” he stumbled upon his own words, and he was sure his face would explode from the pressure of the blood under his skin. He growled and his hands went dumb, finding resolution on messing with his own hair. He let go of his head and crossed the arms again, like a child in tantrum. “It was good, but that’s it.”

“Don’t get so fired up, nobody’s questioning you” Iris said with clear mockery in the voice, and Talcott, at her side, laughed lowly. At her words, Gladio opened the eyes bigger and tried to come up with something to reply. He ended up stuttering after moments of silence, which only led him to cross the arms again, frown and look away roughly. The furniture only laughed.  
“See, it was fine” Noctis told him after some moments, wide smile of pride on his face. “Specs cooked something for you, you ate, you didn’t die, and you liked it.”  
“Specs?” Gladio questioned him with the raise of an eyebrow.  
“I uh…it’s…” The clock’s smile faded and he went a bit awkward. “Just a nickname.”  
“Don’t tell me you’re best friends with him or something” Gladio said turning to look at them now that the embarrassment had faded a bit. His king tensed for a moment, but then only shrugged, looking bored like always.  
“He’s a good guy, what can I say?” Noctis said, and gave no time to reply before he was already yawning. “Well, I had a good time. Time for bed, though.”

“It’s just like nine and half, Noct” Prompto reminded him while hopping after his friend, helping him to get a good grip of the drawers’ handles to start climbing down safely. Gladio heard them discuss whether it was too early for bed or not, and whether ‘I am king, my words are command, we go to bed when I want’ was a valid argument or not, both friends heading to exit the dining room.

He stayed quiet and then he looked down at the bowl and raised an eyebrow at it.  
“Talcott” he called and looked up at the cup, who turned to see him. “…did he…leave some? As in, in a pot or something? Leftovers?”  
“Nope” the cup shook his head (which, like Iris, was basically his entire furniture body). “He usually cooks only enough for a dish. Today was enough for only two.”

Only then Gladio remembered that Ignis had to have taken dinner as well. He had not heard him taking it before him, but he had already cooked. He guessed the man must have had left to his room or somewhere else to eat his own bowl of stew. Gladio understood that both had eaten the same, possibly not many minutes one from the other, and yet had still not faced each other ever since that one night. He remembered, too, about that night, weeks back from then, when he had tried to ask Ignis for dinner. He remembered to have panicked, and to have messed up by accident.  
He wondered if now, with whatever that had changed in the air, Ignis would agree to sit with him and eat together. He would not even mind if the man sat at a corner far from him, so long it was the same room…

“You know, Gladio” his sister’s voice distracted him from his fleeting thoughts, and he looked down at her, gaze soft, “if you really liked it and want more, why don’t you ask him to cook for you sometime soon again?”  
“Ask- wha- no!” Gladio flustered at the mere words. This time there was no proud frown of embarrassment but rather a terrified look like a child who fears speaking to an imposing teacher. “Iris, I can’t do that!”  
“Why not?” the pot questioned, at the time Talcott hopped away, leaving them alone. “He cooked for you on free will, he won’t say no if you as him kindly.”

“Iris, I can’t do that!” Gladio hissed at her, but, again, he still did not look any angered. “He’s going to think I liked it!”  
“Didn’t you?”  
“I mean, yes, but he’s going to think I…” Gladio hesitated some moments and looked around. “Iris, he’s going to think I like him!”  
“Of course not” Iris rolled the eyes. “Gladio, you overthink. You just enjoyed of his cooking, he’s not going to take it any personal. Just go, say hi, and ask him for a bit more. It’s easy!”  
“I said no” Gladio frowned but he still looked rather nervous. “Listen, if I go ask him for more, I’ll show myself to be submissive. I can’t do that; he’s going to think he’s got some power over me, and he doesn’t and will never do. Going to him all nice and kind _asking_ for some cooking, he’s going to think he found my weak spot, but surprise!” he yelled the last word and made his sister flinch at it. “I’m stronger, I’m a wall- I’m an unmovable wall, nobody can pull me down, even less with something as simple and dumb as some cooking.”  
“Bu-”  
“If I go and ask him to cook me something again” Gladio interrupted in a low voice, like he was plotting something and did not want to be heard, “he’s going to think I like him or that I’m trying to befriend him. If he thinks that, he’s going to grow trust and start planning his route of escape, and he’s going to attempt something against me, I know it.”

Iris gave him a non-impressed glare, mental exhaustion written all on her expression. A couple moments later she merely sighed to get rid of all other thoughts in her head.  
“Well, you’re not getting any more dishes cooked by him, then” Iris said with a slight mockery tone. Her brother only looked at her some moments of hesitation, before he gave a short and sarcastic ‘Ha’.  
“So?” he moved to rest his back on the chair, taking his feet up to the table, crossing the ankles in a very confident pose. “I don’t need it. I liked it, but it’s not like I need it.”  
“So, you’re not asking him for more?” Iris asked. Her brother moved the hands so he could rest them behind his head, and he closed the eyes as if carelessly resting. There was a small pause.

“Nope” he said simply. “It was nice, but I can live perfectly fine without it.”

\--

“Iris. Iris, wake up. Iris.”  
The tea pot took a couple seconds to blink and come to her senses. She sighed softly while coming awake, her eyes adapting to the dark of the room. She looked around and focused her eyes until they could see Gladio’s big brown eyes on her, like a mother waking up to her three-year-old intensely staring at her only inches apart. She shook herself to wake up better.  
“What’s wrong, Gladdy?” she yawned.  
“Iris…” the beast whispered, and after blinking a few more times she saw him furrowing the eyebrows with insecurity. “Could you…Iris, could you…?”  
“…what, Gladdy?” she asked in a whisper as well.

There was some silence in between. She saw her brother look around as if to make sure everybody was asleep and nobody was listening. He returned his attention to her and still took some moments, his claws shyly dancing on the drawer.  
“…Iris, could you ask him to cook for me again?”  
“Huh-?”  
“Iris, don’t judge me” Gladio whispered-shouted to her, interrupting his sister before even giving her the chance to understand what was happening. “Iris, I was weak. Iris, I could only stand two days. Iris, I’m weak. Iris, I’m going to die. Iris, I’m wea-”  
“Okay, okay, shush” she whispered, shutting the eyes so that she could open them more easily afterwards. She looked at the beast with sleepy eyes. “Come again. What?”

Gladio hesitated. He gave her puppy eyes without being aware of it, and Iris found that to be a little silly, with how huge he was.  
“…Iris, can you ask Ignis to cook something for me again?” he repeated in a whisper. The tea pot raised the eyebrows at first, and after some moments in silence, she snorted and had to swallow the laughter. Gladio’s nose shrugged, and he hid his eyes behind his paws, whining out the name, “Iris…don’t laugh…”  
“Sorry, sorry” she whispered while laughing softly, eyes closed to fight herself and not break in laughter. She cleared her throat and looked at him again. “Say, Gladio, why don’t you ask him yourself?”  
“Iris, no” Gladio whimpered at her, eyes still shielded by his hands. “I can’t do that!”

“You know what, Gladdy, I’m tired of this” Iris told him but she had not stopped to smile even if tiredly. Gladio took his hands away of his face to look at her. “You two are running from each other like being nice will kill you both.”  
“Iris-”  
“You know what? I think you two are scared of seeing each other after that night because you’re scared of being nice” she stated and looked away, snuggling back into her cushion. “So nope, I won’t ask him to cook for you again. _You_ do it.”  
“Iris” Gladio hissed. “You can’t do this to me!”  
“I won’t mediate between you two anymore” she stated, still smiling. “You want more of his cooking? You go ask him.”  
“I can’t!” Gladio whispered-shouted at her again.

“Yes, you can” she argued back. “And I’m going to make you.”  
Gladio frowned at her.  
“You won’t order me!” he hissed. “You can’t and won’t order me to his door to ask him to cook something for me!” 

Iris raised the eyebrows at him.

\--

“I can’t believe you convinced him to go to Ignis’ door to ask him to cook something for him!”

The quartet of friends rode by pairs on the footstools through the hallways, going behind the beast’s long strides across the castle; Prompto rode with Noctis on Umbra, and the girls rode on Pryna. The once-dogs took a normal pace following Gladiolus with some yards of distance in between. He did not hesitate on each step but was not showing himself extra confident or as if it was a normal day going to the training hall.  
“I told you he was going to _die_ ” Noctis smirked. “Beast or not, you only need to feed him something delicious and he’s going to follow you around for all life. So predictable.”  
“You can’t blame him” Iris said. “Food is possibly the best thing in the world.”

“You Amicitias have an eating obsession” Noctis crossed the arms, bouncing lightly on his place with each step that Umbra took. “You could swallow ten dishes and you’re still not full.”  
“You can’t speak of obsessions, Sleepy Beauty” Prompto mocked him, and Noctis reached closer to smack him lightly on the head. The candelabra merely laughed.  
“Let’s just hope Ignis won’t mess up this time” Iris said with some insecurity. “I don’t know what to expect from him. He’s not precisely shy or submissive, you know?”  
“He’s so fierce, it’s scary” Prompto nodded. “But I don’t think he’s got reasons to be rude with Gladio, I-I mean, not after the other night, right?”  
“I’m very positive it’s going to work out this time” Luna said with a happy smile, and the friends quieted as the dogs started slowing down. 

Gladio had stopped at the door to the man’s bedroom. He stayed there, quiet and not moving at all. The footstools stopped nearby but giving him space enough, and the furniture stayed on them, looking up at the Shield. They spent some quiet moments, in which all that Gladio did was to stare down at his wolf-like feet and claws. Nervous, he hesitated and then sighed shortly and quietly, turning enough to look at the furniture. All of them eagerly nodded at him. He looked away and swallowed, moving a hand up to scratch behind his head. He moved the other up with its back facing the door. He moved it a bit, but he put it down before it could call to the door, and he turned again to look at his friends. Even more eagerly, they all nodded at him again.

The beast kept the eyes on them, frowning ever since having stopped in his spot. After some moments, he contained a sigh in his chest and moved the hand up, prepared to knock.  
He armed himself with all his courage, and his hand took confidence enough to reach closer and it motioned to knock.  
And, at the same time, Ignis opened the door.

As soon as they saw each other, both let out a yelp of surprise each on their own style and backed away a couple steps; Ignis’ voice was quiet and sounded mostly as if trapped in his throat rather than slipping past his lips, and his steps back were graceful, almost as if his feet did not touch the ground by a mere inch. Gladio, on his part, let out a sound more alike to a hissed groan or a gasped, quiet yelp, and his steps were much dumber as he backed away.  
Timing was not their talent.  
They stayed quiet after being startled and only looked at each other eye-widened for a moment. If it had been up to Gladio, he would have not done anything…but the surprise brought a slight hint of the beast to the surface.

“Why did you do that!?” Gladio asked him as if the man had just smacked an old lady in the face.  
“Why did _you_ do that!?” Ignis questioned back in as much of a tiny, silly panic. “How long have you been standing there!?”  
“Why does that matter!?” Gladio questioned back…and, before any of them was aware of it, they had started to argue once again, like the night of daemons had not happened, like they had seen each other an hour ago and not many days long. “What were you trying to do, give me a heart attack!?”  
“I must remind you, I am not the terrific, imposing one here” Ignis replied still loud but not yelling, firm like always. “I don’t see how I could scare something like you.”  
“Did you just call me a _something_!?”  
“I was figuratively speaking, don’t take it like that- why are you so dramatic?”  
“Why are you so rude!?”  
“Can you please stop yelling at me!?”

On the background, Iris and Luna sighed from their place on Pryna. Noctis looked at the scene completely unimpressed as the argument carried on, like it bored him. Prompto gave a tiny and nervous laugh every once and then, looking at them and dropping the shoulders. None of them said a word or looked at each other while those two continued arguing.  
This was not what anyone, including them both, had expected to happen. After such an intimate event like the nursing and talking at the living room, after Ignis came back to the castle on free will, and after Gladiolus apologizing, everyone, including themselves, had expected some dramatic new beginning, a cheesy and shy greeting, the shake of a hand, a soft, low and intimate conversation…

Then again, they had much more practice on arguing, so it was natural when it simply happened. The furniture were a bit impressed that this was their first Hello in _days_ , but not too much, if they had to be honest. Their attitudes were not ones for apologies and sadness. Of course they would argue.  
The event and yelling at one another lasted a couple seconds before they decided to come to an end.

“Okay, stop, stop right now” Ignis said firmly while putting his palms up, his expression clearly angered but also exhausted of the conversation. Gladio had been speaking but he shut himself with a growl of tantrum, before snorting and looking away. The man closed the eyes for a moment now that the panic and yelling had gone and there were some seconds of silence and peace for him to sigh softly. “See, we can be civilized. We were only startled, but I believe we can…hold…a proper conversation now.”  
“Civilized” Gladio muttered with slight mockery, and the man decided to ignore him, despite his slightly twitching eyebrow.  
“I will ask again, and this time I do hope you don’t take it as a complaint but as a serious question” Ignis said while the beast rolled lightly the eyes, a bit uncomfortable with the man’s excessively formal talking. “May I know why are you standing at my door at this hour?”

Gladio’s frown returned but this time into the embarrassment scheme, eyes growing wider again. He snapped his head to another side and panicked, but he did not dare look back at the furniture nor the man.  
“I believed” Ignis said after a few seconds with no response, “that by now you had to have been done with your dinner. My apologies if I startled you, but my intention was not to open the door in your nose; I was heading to take my turn in the dining room.”  
“Y-yeah, about that…” the beast started saying and he tried to look down at Ignis again, forcing a grin but failing, looking away when he remembered about his fangs and the awful look he must have had trying to smile, all in a matter of a couple seconds. “I uhm…I was…you know…I came here, uh…don’t…don’t get me wrong, I just…”

Ignis did not offer any kind suggestion to help him finish his words. He did not offer any sweet smile, or any shy gesture. He did not offer any comprehensive look. Like he owned and ruled the castle, Ignis stood straight on a neutral position, the chin up and a frown upon his face. The mere essence the man gave to himself almost made him look like the roles were all inverted, and everyone in the castle was a commoner while he stayed a prince and not the other way around. Gladio was not oblivious to this; it took some nerves to stand before Ignis, especially when he knew he had upset the man countless times already.  
“…I uh…” Gladio still tried to say something. He looked away and scratched his neck and behind his head multiple times. The man at his door, strict, still expected an answer in total silence. The beast stuttered a bit. “I was…about dinner…”  
Something seemed to have struck Ignis in some sort of realization; his frown softened slightly and the gleam in his eyes changed, but he tried to dissimulate and frowned again. It was clear he hated to be taken off guard and he tried to show it as little as possible when it happened. 

He almost seemed to have come with something to reply to that, but he also seemed to have swallowed it before he could snap it out. Ignis offered no reaction and stayed there like a statue, not moving, standing still and frowning up at him.  
“You know” Gladio sighed. “I was just…that stew of the other day…it was…” the beast moved a fist up to hide his mouth, and cleared his throat. “…so I was…wondering…”

The beast stayed quiet and looked at the man. The first thing his eyes looked for, once they were too shy to stand Ignis’ green ones, was the man’s throat. Compared to the last time Gladio saw it, it had started to recover its normal color, but there were still a couple purple stains here and there. The beast was a bit scared that the man would notice where he was looking so he stared away again and swallowed.  
“…right?” Ignis asked slowly like a child not understanding advanced algebra. Gladio looked up at him again with the eyes filled of embarrassment, but getting to keep them on Ignis’ stare.  
“…you know, it’s nothing personal, but…” Gladio said in almost a murmur. He looked down and moved a hand up to clear his throat again. “…could you…could you…cook something…for me, again?”

Everything and everyone stayed quiet. The furniture looked with attention and great hope gleaming in their eyes. Gladio looked down at him, completely uncomfortable, not really expecting kindness even though he did feel a bit hopeful for a positive answer. Ignis, on his part, only looked at him as if he had not heard and was still waiting to be told something. There was silence and it lasted a bit more, with the man showing no reaction.  
After a couple seconds, Ignis closed the eyes, keeping the frown on his face.  
“I refuse” he said without a single hint of hesitation.  
“Wha-!?” Gladio accidentally swallowed his own question midway, flinching as if he had been hit by surprise, eyes going wide. The furniture, at their spot, gasped and looked at him with surprise as well, in silence. “But why!? I asked nicely!”  
“I have seen the way you behave at the table, gentleman” Ignis started explaining. “I do not wish to attend it for my own comfort; apologies, but I would be very uncomfortable eating together.”  
“Bu-“ Gladio had looked down for one second as if looking for an answer, and then looked back up at the man, frowning in pure anger. “I’m not asking you to take dinner with me, you, ass! I asked for dinner!”

“Is it not the same?” Ignis questioned with the same firm voice, and if he was being sarcastic or if it was a serious question, nobody could recall. Miscommunication led Gladio to continue yelling at the man.  
“Of course not!” the beast said loudly. “I’m just asking you cook something and I go eat it somewhere else” realizing what he said, Gladio shook the head and roared his next words at him. “No, _you_ go somewhere else! Or…or I do, that’s…” he had quieted but recovered himself to continue yelling. “That’s not the point!”  
“So you only wish for me to cook something for you” Ignis said with a softer and lower voice, but staying firm and with that angered look. “Not sit together for dinner.”  
“That’s what I said!” Gladio growled at him. Following that, he went with the impression of a very dumb, silly and slightly high-pitched voice. “’You may want to check your ears; you could have excess of fur in them’.”

“Well, I am impressed you could quote me by heart word by word” Ignis said calmly, the chin up. As he was saying this he exited his room, Gladio not giving him space, both too close in the motion of the man to close the door but both too proud to be the first to step back. “Though I do have to say, your impression was a failure. It was not even relatively close to the color of my voice.”  
“That’s not the-!” Gladio had started to argue, but he noticed he had, once more like in their usual arguments, had been driven to change subject into a non-important one. He moved his hands up and, with a growl of exasperation, he pulled from his face downwards. At the same time, Ignis started walking through the hallway towards his left as if completely ignoring the beast. Gladio looked at him as if surprised the man was walking away mid-argument, offended. While he was calmly leaving, Gladio frowned at him from his spot. “Are you doing it or not!?”

“Do you think I would be heading to the kitchen if I was to not do it?” Ignis questioned looking over his shoulder, still frowning. 

Gladio had been about to snap something as if he had prepared a comeback for something, but had been taken off guard by something entirely different. He swallowed his non-delivered comment and kept the wide eyes on the man. Both shared a glance that none knew how to decipher, yet that both understood in some level. There was silence and both stood still in their places as if though time had stopped. The only sign to confirm it was still moving was the subtle movement of clothing and hair as result of the wind that came through the open windows.

Gentle and very timid gusts welcomed themselves through the openings in the wall and danced around. It was Ignis who received the most air, standing nearby a window while Gladiolus stood by a door. The beast watched the man’s hair moved back and forth in tiny movements according to the wind, and saw little wrinkles of his white, long-sleeved shirt dancing on him.  
Something felt different in the castle after the decision of opening windows. It looked the same than always…but the air and aura were different.

Gladio blinked while watching the man. Ignis returned the stare a couple more seconds before he returned his attention to the front and retook his walking.  
“Are you coming or not?”

The beast had the mouth slightly parted. He felt something strange inside at the softened question. He hesitated some moments before snorting like a nagged child, and started walking behind, following him.  
“Great, you owe me” he had stopped yelling, but the arrogance was still present in his voice. Ignis looked over his shoulder again without stopping his feet.  
“Owe you?” Ignis questioned as if offended, but he was not yelling anymore either. “For opening the bloody windows? That’s a necessity, not something I should thank you for.”  
“Well, I’ll close them again, then” Gladio said louder this time, catching up with Ignis. Both were soon reaching the end of the hallway, side by side but with a respectful distance.  
“Are you threatening me?” Ignis asked back, his voice starting to fade in the distance.

The soon disappeared from the range of sight of the furniture friends. They were not sure what to think; they had argued, but that last exchange had been a bit different. They had walked together and had disappeared like that. For a moment, the four friends felt like it had not had an awful outcome after all.  
And, right as they thought about it, their voices echoed again from somewhere, loud and angered.  
“-like you can’t understand, holy Shiva!” somewhere in the distance Gladio was replying to something they had not been able to hear.  
“Will you stop going drama queen on me? Oh my god, I thought I was done with this days ago!” Ignis was replying as loudly. “And don’t you understand what I mean with ‘personal space’!?”  
“I’m not touching you!” Gladio yelled back, and Ignis had started to yell back more and more things, but they were drowned out by Gladio’s stronger voice on a repeat of, “I’m not touching you! Stop it!” Ignis’ voice said something, loud but not enough for the furniture to acknowledge word by word. “What do you mean I can’t go in the kitchen!? It’s _mine!_ ”  
“Not when I’m cooking, sir!” they heard Ignis reply loudly but not in a yell. 

Once their voices faded for real this time, the furniture quartet stood quiet on their places on the footstools, who patiently awaited instructions. Umbra did a sound as if a little yawn, despite his lack of a proper mouth. First to break the awkward silence was Prompto.  
“Well, wasn’t that nice!” he said with a little and very nervous laugh, trying to lift up the mood and miserably failing, being aware of it. Iris sighed, eyes sad.  
“I thought something had changed” she lamented quietly. “I thought that, after that night, something had changed and maybe they now could really try and be friends…but they’re back to their childish, senseless arguing. I guess there’s really no repair; we’ll have to put them apart again.”  
At first the candelabra and the clock had sighed in a very silent agreement. 

“No, Iris” Luna said kindly but firmly. “You’re wrong.”

At her words, the rest of the gang turned to look at her, curious. Luna was smiling with sweetness, widely.  
“Don’t you see?” she asked them, happy. “ _Something_ changed.”  
“…I…don’t want to sound dumb, but…I really…don’t see what you mean, Luna” Prompto said after some moments of quiet with some personal fear and shyness in the voice.  
“I don’t get it either” Noctis admitted much more confident, the voice lazy and unimpressed, but explicitly curious. The three friends looked at the feathered duster some more, and she kept the smile on her face.  
“Sure, they’re arguing” Luna admitted, “but don’t you see the difference? This time there was no personal insult. This time, none of them stormed out and away. None broke a chair. None was extremely rude to the point of personal offense” she continued to explain point by point, excitedly. Her friends stared at her as if still trying to understand. “Okay, they’re not behaving like friends, but at least they don’t want to murder each other anymore. They’re giving each other a chance, in a…non-conventional and very rude way, but it’s a chance. They argued but they didn’t leave each to their room; they left _together_ somewhere else, calm. Arguing, but physically calm.”

He friends shared glances together. They seemed to understand and finally start to acknowledge what she meant. She smiled widely and tried to have it easier for them.  
“It’s like…” she looked around. Soon, she spotted something to work with. “It’s like the windows!”  
The other three looked at her gently ask Pryna to head closer to the wall. Umbra followed. Quiet, Luna hopped from the footstool to the window, low enough for her to reach, and she climbed onto the windowsill.  
“The Citadel looks the same” she explained, “but it feels different. It wasn’t a noticeable change, and while the walls are the same and the dust is the same and everything is the same…” she closed the eyes and felt on her face the fresh air of that summer night. “…it’s not. It’s…healthier.” 

Everybody stayed quiet, watching her. Little by little, they understood and felt the motivation of her words. The three shared happy glances, feeling an exciting hope build up inside each of them.  
Maybe there was a chance that Gladio and Ignis could build a good friendship-  
There was the sound of a glass crashing and breaking.

“What did you do now!?” they heard Ignis yell from far away; had it not been for the open window of the sixth floor and the open one of the kitchen underneath, they would not have heard. “ _Great job_ , Gladiolus! I just hope it wasn’t alive!”  
“I did nothing, why are you blaming _me_!?” the beast roared back at him. Following that, both started arguing by talking at the same time, interrupting each other, words clashing, one voice over the other, and sharing little growls of exasperation at times.

Luna, from her place, forced a smile, eyebrows furrowed. Iris, with a small and slightly insecure curve of the mouth, shook the head and sighed softly.  
“We could still keep an eye on them, though” she said. “Just in case.”  
“Yeah” Noctis sighed. “It’s going to be a mess if they poke each other’s eyes out with a fork.”  
“We don’t want that” Prompto stated, and Noctis echoed his words aloud. 

“I trust in them. I trust in this” Luna smiled happily nonetheless, hopping down the windowsill back to Pryna. Under Noctis’ instruction, both stools started joyfully walking through the hallway, heading for the kitchen. “Something very beautiful will blossom from their relationship. I know it.”  
“Like what?” Noctis asked her. 

Luna shrugged, smiling to herself.  
“We wait and see.” 


	10. Cooking Issues

Ignis was not narcissistic enough to brag around, but he also was not shy about his skills: he had a wonderfully developed hand for cooking and he knew it.

He had put hands on knives, counters and meat since age seven, and had not stopped ever since. He had not always been good; that was something that, like most things in life, started roughly, but constancy and effort helped him handle the things he had struggled with in a beginning. At first things could be quite a mess and there were many things he had not been able to do; for example, when his father found Ignis trying to light a fire on the stove, he reached for little Ignis and carried him away, ordering him to not ever get close to fire or try to toy with it ever again, panicked eyes and fear in the voice. Kid Ignis had insisted for minutes that he needed the stove to work, and when his father finally put an end to it and sat Ignis on his bed prepared to leave him in his room, the boy simply half-yelled out “How am I supposed to cook the meat for your lunch for your work tomorrow?” 

Caleo Scientia had not understood until then. He had believed it was a mere child curiosity attack, that of reaching for matchsticks and the kitchen. He was a mathematician with a great knowledge on physics, so he guessed that maybe his little son had seen some of his notes or experiments and had tried to understand fire on his own. Besides, by that age it was proved enough that Ignis had been born a genius kid, with an intelligence found in one person among thousands of thousands. He had already been visited by people of the Strategy and Tactics headquarters of the Citadel, so Scientia father had thought the excitement of receiving royal tutoring had switched the curiosity eagerness in Ignis a thousand times stronger.  
It turned out to be that his young child was not curious: he was trying to cook something for him.

_It’s so you can sleep a bit more, papa. You sleep so little because you’re busy. You can’t do everything, papa. Let me cook for you and for me._

Caleo Scientia, partly against his own will and partly trusting in his genius too-mature-for-his-age son, had ended up teaching him around the kitchen so that he could stay as safe as possible in there. Ignis never had an accident further a cut or two on fingers from time to time. He struggled much more getting things right in the kitchen and learning which spices were correct on which meals and which others caused a terrible stomachache than in the usage of fire or knives. Kid Ignis had much more troubles learning not to overcook, when to add salt and when not, and which vegetables got along together than with the real dangerous things.

Caleo watched through the years how easy it was for his son to handle the knives, no matter their size. He was not sure if he had to be terrified or pleased, but the seven-year-old had no troubles with them. If anything, it was precisely the other way around. Sometimes he made it look like a game, the way a knife fell off the counter and he caught them by the grip, without looking. Once, Caleo had watched Ignis use his foot by throwing it backwards to kick a falling knife, sending it back up like it was a ball, catch it, and continue cooking like nothing had happened.  
And if something caused him even less troubles, that was fire.

Ignis lighted fire at age eight like it was a game. He feared it very little. It was only after teaching him to use the stove that Caleo noticed his son’s affection for the element; he never blew the fire of candles off, he always used fingers for that, not even licking them first, and he had never once complaint or shown himself hurt from it. He lit the fire of the stove and could stand close to it with no troubles. He could hover over it to watch it like a kid staring into a fish pond, and not ever get hurt from it. He made something as dangerous look like an art or like a pet; fire was his friend, not a combustion reaction in nature.

_The child is pure fire. The eyes are green, but they burn like a flame. Mister Scientia, please do honor **us** by allowing us to tutor him. He is what the future generation of the Lucis Caelum requires; young flames that burn with intensity. _

The royal tutors, after finding out the genius child also found the management of knives and fire as something easy, had said that the child was double blessed; not only did he have the potential to explode his great intelligence into the strategy field to serve in the offices of the Citadel, but apparently also had a natural talent for battle skills. If it was true, they had told Caleo in a private conversation, and if the child was both smarter than the average _and_ could also develop exquisite battle skills, he could forget about a plain office in the castle…he was material for much more than just that. 

_He’s close to the prince in age. With the gifts blessed upon your child, he could, one day, enter training and be one of the very selected ones seeking to become royal adviser and second hand to His Highness Noctis, mister Scientia._

They told him that, if he ever reached that point, or even if only joining as more than a planning strategist and managed his way into the Crownsguard, he could be gifted with the prince’s magic to use himself. Ignis’ almost-natural connection with fire hinted the tutors to believe he could also, possibly, have a good hand for magic if they ever gave him the chance to handle it. Struggling at first was fine, but he looked like he could manage his way with magic if he so much enjoyed of fire and feared it so little.

_He has the potential to be an amazing Kingsglaive, too. No matter where you look, all his possible destinies end leading him into the Citadel._

Caleo had not told Ignis. He had decided to wait until he was an adult; he was already worried his son would feel too pressured by being tutored by royal teachers and with a future in the castle to tell him he could reach the Kingsglaives or, worse, the very same heir of the throne as second-hand to him. It took him ages to understand it himself, so he believed it wise to wait some years before telling Ignis. His son had a bright future secured if he worked hard, but he did not want to tell him _how_ bright.  
Even light, in excess, can come to be blinding.

Caleo thought it would be best to see how Ignis developed, see him grow up and become a man of his own desires or wishes. He feared maybe his son would have other passions and goals in his heart, but would swallow them if he was told he would be the prince’s adviser if he worked hard. Knowing him and his extreme sense of loyalty towards the kingdom, Ignis would not hesitate on giving up his dreams if that way he could help the Lucis Caelum in some way. And Caleo did not want that; he wanted Ignis to be true to himself. Himself before anything and anyone else, the Citadel and the kings included. 

But with every passing year, Ignis only seemed more and more passionate about the Citadel. Every day that passed, he studied with more passion to be the best strategist there could be. Every year that went by, he smiled more and more honestly every time his eyes went north, the direction of the castle. By the time he reached age fifteen, and after a visit from the young prince Noctis and his close companions to the zone of the city that would later become “Northern Insomnia”, Ignis could not have been any more ecstatic on the matter. He spoke all over dinner about what he would do once he would be part of the working staff in the castle, about all the things he was going to learn, all the things he would do and see. Caleo thought that maybe, a few years after that, he could finally tell Ignis about his great possibilities of becoming the prince’s adviser.

He never got to do it.  
He waited for too long, and by the time he would have told his son about the great news, he could not do it anymore. Not because something made him keep quiet on free will, no. Precisely the opposite: he did not remember anymore. There was no prince Noctis in his memories, no King Regis, no Lucis Caelum, no royal teachers and tutors. Ignis had never gone through 10 exhaustive years of hard work, training, studying under royal eyes. Ten years of learning from Kingsglaives, from Royal Tutors. It had never happened. Nothing of it had ever happened to them, even when it had. 

That his son could toy around with knives and fire like it was a child’s game had come from results of Kingsglaive training to be a mere entertainment that he learned on his own with no use in their lives, but make cooking look fantastic. 

 

The link between both beast and man since that day, the only thing that had kept them in communication had been, curiously, cooking.

Ignis’ cooking, of course. Having learned since young and not stopping ever since, he had made progress across fourteen years in the kitchen, so of course he was aware he really had a good hand for it and did not deny it. Not even the way-too-proud, haughty and unnerving beast could deny it. That he had never once complimented Ignis so far either, he had not. Ignis had cooked for him a couple more times, and never once did he get any compliment; Gladiolus never gave one aloud, nor did he show satisfaction in front of him, and had thanked him only once, and that was after Iris forced him to do it.

If there had been any flattering demonstrations of having enjoyed the meal, those stayed in secret with Gladiolus at the dining room; Ignis was too disgusted of the beast’s…well, bestial behavior when eating, too disgusted to be able to witness it and not throw up in there, so despite the times he cooked for him, Ignis took his own dish and went away somewhere else and locked himself until he was done. He could not and did not want to cope with watching or hearing Gladiolus eat. The minor consequence was that he could not see if Gladiolus enjoyed greatly of the food or just ‘Eh’, if he burped as compliment or not, if he caressed his belly afterwards. But Ignis also did not want to know if he did; he knew his cooking was fantastic already, he did not need the approbation of anyone else, let alone somebody whose opinion was completely unimportant to him.

Besides, the fact that Gladiolus asked him for more of his cooking was enough of a compliment. With how proud the beast was and how much he despised to make Ignis feel good about something, he did not need any other compliment. The only fact that the beast could not resist and hold it in and forced himself to ask Ignis for more was enough.

After that first dinner that Gladiolus asked for, it took him two days again before returning to Ignis. Or, more precisely, one day and a couple hours; the second time, he asked for breakfast.  
“Cook for me again” was the way the beast had requested for it. Ignis had widened the eyes at first, and then he had frowned, closed the eyes and raised the chin.  
“I am not your servant. I answer no orders or commands. You do not have the legal power to do so, and you clearly do not have the power to threaten me either” he had responded.  
“I do not, but these claws say different” Gladiolus had growled at him afterwards, and Ignis noticed that the beast had either woken up in a bad mood or that having to request for this angered him greatly and he had enough troubles only asking for it to also deal with being nice.  
“Do not hesitate; claw me if you will, but I will not cook for you if you ask that way” Ignis had said and had not moved a single inch, if only just his eyelids to open, so his eyes could glare up at the beast. “Though I also will remind you, ‘I am under your care’…am I not?”

Gladiolus had gotten closer to him and had snorted in his face, managing to make his hair dance and his eyes blink, but Ignis kept the glare on him, not fearless, but very courageous. He was not sure if the beast had expected to scare him enough with that little approach to make him agree to the cooking, but after seconds with Ignis not giving in, still arm-crossed, glaring back, Gladiolus leant back up and rolled the eyes with a softer snort coming from his nose.  
“Fine” the beast muttered. Afterwards, he cleared his throat and then clasped his hands together, looking down at the human with an extremely-fake-on-purpose grin and butterfly-like eyes. “Dear and wonderful Ignis, would you honor me preparing breakfast for me, oh great Emperor of the universe?”  
“That is much better” Ignis said but could not help his frown from deepening and his eyebrow to twitch at the immediate anger that burnt in him like a huge flame at the sarcasm and the obnoxious high-pitched voice Gladiolus had used. The beast, at the equally-sarcastic response, frowned again and snorted in the man’s face, but Ignis did not move yet. “Yes, but you know my conditions.”  
“Pff…” Gladio snorted. “Like I want to see.”

Said that, the beast turned and exited the kitchen. Ignis watched him do and kept an ear up to hear when the beast would also exit the dining room next door so that he could work calmly. He was disgusted at the idea of eating in his presence, and he was also uncomfortable at the idea of the beast watching him cook. He was not sure if it was distrust on thinking the beast could attack him by believing Ignis was distracted while cooking (which would have the tables turn on Gladiolus, for this was Ignis’ territory in all its splendor), or maybe just the idea of all his fur and hair invading his immaculate-clean kitchen that took him an entire day to clean.  
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nobody had ever watched him cook before, and he was not sure what to feel that, for the first time, there was someone with time for that.

After that day, Gladiolus took intermittent lapses of appearing to ask him for food, always at either breakfast or dinner. Ignis agreed every time, but only after the beast asked ‘nicely’. Sometimes Gladiolus would appear formal on his own, but some others it had been up to Ignis to nag him and argue with him until the beast had no option but to change his mode and words and be nicer, even if filled with sarcasm. It did not matter if he meant what he said or not, so long it was not aggressive or an order, Ignis would agree. He wondered how good his cooking had to be to make Gladiolus force himself to be nice to him so long that would earn him a dish. 

On the third week, Gladiolus took too much trust and casually asked him as if friends, but this time Ignis reacted worse than other times out of one single addition: he was asked something _specific_.

“Say, I’m hungry for anak meat” Gladio had said after Ignis had forced him into asking nicely and had agreed. “Why don’t you cook some?”  
The question itself and the voice used had not been particularly aggressive or commanding. But it was the fact that Gladiolus was asking for a specific something what triggered the man. He had at first opened wide the eyes at the beast, but was soon frowning at him, more offended than angered.  
“Why do I not?” Ignis asked and a quick sarcastic smile appeared on his lips and left as soon as it came. “Oh, sure, why do I not? Do you require anything else? A massage, perhaps? Would you like Altissian wine with it? How else may I serve you, sir?”  
“Oh, don’t Drama Queen me” Gladiolus said, annoyed and flicking a wrist as if to scare a bothering fly on his hand. “I asked nice.”

“I am not your servant” Ignis said firmly. “I will cook what is in my hands. Not what you ask for.”  
Gladiolus rolled the eyes at him, with a long but low groan he did not dissimulate.  
“It is I cooking, it is I in control of the kitchen. Not you” the human continued and Gladiolus only moved a hand up to use a claw to clean the inside of his ear, showing himself very uninterested on purpose. Ignis only frowned more at the sight. “Can you please not do that? Go do your earwax cleaning somewhere else, you will dirty the kitchen and I will make sure to go throw up in your bed.”  
“I was only making a suggestion” Gladiolus argued back, voice calm but the air tense around them, like usual. “I really am craving some anak meat. I thought it’d make no harm to ask, but I see you’re still a sensitive whiny princess I can’t make a comment to without triggering a drama.”  
“How did you-” Ignis cut himself midways through the question, and when he felt his cheeks were about to burn, he looked away, frowning and too proud to let the beast see him becoming red in the face. “You cannot ask that of me. It’s rude.”

“Rude” Gladio repeated after him, unimpressed. It only made Ignis frown more and keep the head away, feeling ridiculous for some reason. “ _How_ am I rude?”  
“Well, you…” Ignis had started in a stutter, head snapping back to face the beast. He stopped for only a second when he realized he felt dumb, but frowned and tried to word his thoughts correctly and not stumble in the way. “How is it not rude? After having kept me alive with a bread per day for _two weeks_ , I’ve spent these past two months and three weeks surviving on poorly prepared meals twice a day” he said but he did not seem to be done, so Gladio did not interrupt him. “You, gentleman, are rude when you have all the ingredients to your disposition and you eat twice what I do, three times a day, and, knowing I know it, still ask me to prepare you something specific. It’s not enough to have me poorly eating, you also have to rub on my face how you have it better than I.”

Said that, Ignis turned on him and approached a counter, taking off his gloves and tossing them away.  
“Thank you, gentleman, but I do not wish to be reminded of my denigration” he said and, with bare hands now, he reached close for a knife and turned to look for Talcott, calling him. Before he could ask something from the tea cup, however, the beast gave out a loud and sarcastic ‘Hah’, which made the human turn to look at him, frowning.  
“Do you really think that?” Gladio asked him with a non-joyful grin on his face, eyebrows furrowed. The mere expression made Ignis feel like he was being made fun of, so he stared away again in embarrassment. “Do you- wait, do you _really_ think that?”

“Think what?” Ignis asked him, trying not to be the one giving up in this argument.  
“That you have two poor meals a day because I keep the rest for myself” Gladio stated and the amused but not joyful grin stayed on him, even widening slightly more. Ignis, at the words, felt confused and taken a bit off-guard. He stayed quiet some moments and then shrugged.  
“Well…you do have a meal more than I get…” it was clearly not an answer, and Ignis was clearly trying to defend himself with something in an obvious defeat about to come.  
Both stayed quiet some moments. A couple of seconds later, Gladio was letting out another short ‘Hah’, this time much more bitter than the previous one. Ignis, for a reason, felt stupid for having spoken and having gotten fired up, and only looked away.  
“You really are amazing” the beast told him and it sounded like the opposite of a compliment.

Ignis looked up at him when Gladiolus moved a bit on his place, letting go of the counter where he had rested a hand, and he took a step closer to the human. Ignis looked away again, not knowing why he could not help it this time.  
“If I told you to have only two meals and not three, and if the ingredients they give you are not enough” Gladiolus murmured at him darkly, glaring and not smiling anymore, “that’s because we _don’t have more._ ”  
There was silence.  
In it, Ignis heard his heart roughly hitting against his chest once immediately after having heard that last statement, and he felt as if though a fist had made it past his guard and had gotten to hit him. He kept the eyes on Gladio and he was aware the beast was watching his reaction even when Ignis did not explicitly show it fully. The beast kept the cold look down on him.

“…but…it’s a castle” Ignis heard himself murmur even when he knew the answer himself.  
“An _abandoned_ castle” Gladiolus reminded him and Ignis showed no reaction to that; he knew that. “I’m the only habitant of it that needs food, but, surprise, I’ve been here for _five years_ ” the beast made sure to raise lightly the voice at the last two words, giving each one its own weight. Ignis stayed quiet, eyes down. “Five years. The supplies were enough for two years of myself alone, but after that?” he gave a sarcastic chuckle before his face become fully serious again. “I don’t have it as easy as go grocery shopping at the market. I needed to get the essential for me, and now I work twice the hard I would if I was alone, because, surprise, I need to make sure your sorry, pitiful, whiny ass doesn’t starve to death” his eyes squinted slightly into a harder and much colder glare into Ignis, and the human, for once, put the head slightly down and away. “Be grateful you have the luxury of salt.”

“…I…” Ignis had started to say after that growl, lowly and keeping the head slightly down compared to what he tended to keep it. But he had no words. He could not defend himself.  
“And if I get to eat more than you do” Gladio continued, a bit louder this time, trying not to speak through clenching teeth, “that’s because, in case you haven’t noticed just yet, I’m much bigger than you. You’re tall for a man, and your ridiculous hair reaches my shoulder, but I weigh at least four times more than you in this state, five maybe.”

Ignis did not question his ‘in this state’ words or the meaning behind. In those moments he found himself to be puzzled and in total defeat drenched in self-humiliation to think too much about it.  
“Which part of ‘beast’ do you still not understand?” Gladio asked him in almost a murmur, and, for once, it was much scarier than being growled at. Ignis had been roared at too many times for it to terrify him anymore, but a murmur of this color was new…and it felt very serious. “I thought you were smart enough to understand yourself, but it seems I have to explain because your judgmental ass can’t see further the first impression” he continued. “There’s this beast inside me, and I have to keep it chained if I want to be on control of myself. The only way I can get it is if the beast is content. How do you keep an animal content? You sleep a lot, you exercise a lot…”

He leaned down until his face was inches from Ignis’. For once, the man had troubles glaring back and did not, keeping the face at the same height but the chin was not up, and the eyes were looking down.  
“And you eat a lot.”  
“I apologize, then” Ignis finally said, possibly interrupting the other after those words. Both stayed quiet some moments, faces still inches apart. Ignis frowned lightly out of discomfort, not anger. “I had not thought…”  
“Of course you hadn’t” Gladio muttered at him and stood straight again, recovering his normal height and having to look down at the man. “Why would you stop to think if I have any reasons behind the things I do and the things I say? I’m just an animal, after all, am I not? Without a tragic story like yours, because, apparently, I was born from air just like this; brute and crude. Right?”

Both stayed quiet. At his words, Ignis had looked up at him again, but the chin stayed down. He tried to keep eye contact and succeed, poorly but succeed.  
“…I have never said that” Ignis murmured at him as if in a last attempt of self-defense. Gladio looked away for a moment with a sarcastic and bitter laugh.  
“Oh, you don’t need to” the beast said louder in a more casual voice this time, a clear conclusion of the argument. “You have very expressive eyes.”  
Ignis looked up at him with all sign of pride gone from his expression. Gladio looked back at him, smile gone again, eyes cold despite their almost amber color.  
“And it’s not a compliment.”

Both stayed quiet a couple of moments. Ignis, not helping the shame, looked away as if though only now he was realizing that all his thoughts and intimacy were literally written all over his face. It was further embarrassment. It was a sensation alike what he thought it would feel to speak crap about someone, spend weeks constantly doing it believing they were deaf, and find out the enemy had known all along about it. Except it was worse. 

After a couple of moments in heavy silence, Gladiolus turned and started heading to the back door of the kitchen, the one that led to the gardens.  
“Cook whatever the fuck you want” he said as if completely careless. “I’m not hungry anymore.”  
Once with those words being delivered, Ignis stood there without moving, and his peripheric gaze followed Gladiolus as the latter unlocked the door, walked out, and closed it again, a bit too loudly but without getting to the point of having slammed it. Ignis flinched lightly at the sound and kept the head down. 

Everything stayed quiet in the kitchen. Some of the furniture looked at the door, and some at the man standing in the room. Some did not know where to look at. Ignis, on his part, kept the head down. There was a slight frown upon his face, which he kept as he, a minute later, sighed and moved a hand to push his glasses up on his nose. He reached for the knife and looked at the cucumber that Talcott had brought before the argument had started. He hesitated some moments but then held it with the other hand, and started peeling it.

He sliced three times before leaving the knife on the counter and a silent kitchen behind.  
He was not hungry anymore, either.

\--

That had been the most serious argument they had had since the night of intruders in the castle. When they started treating each other in their new beginning, it seemed as if nothing had changed; they still argued over silly things. The difference was that they had stopped storming out of the room and away of each other. They argued, stayed quiet, and changed subject or turned into silence. The time of the kitchen had been the first in which they did walk away of each other, and in which they argued for a good reason and not for dumb things like “why did you blink at me like that” or “you look especially dumb today”. 

Ignis did not need to be a genius to know he had touched a fragile thread in the beast. He was not sure if he had hurt Gladiolus, but he had at least rubbed on a sensitive spot, and he hated to know that. He did not hate to have upset him; he hated to know that Gladiolus had a sensitive spot in the heart, because that was a way of acknowledging he had a heart. Not only was Ignis in realization he touched a sensitive vein, it was also the realization that if he accidentally harmed a vein, that was because the vein led to a heart. And to know he had a heart complicated things greatly. Ignis knew that the beast had intelligence and behaved like half-a-man, but the looks and bestial treatment had led Ignis to see in him exactly what Gladiolus had said; a mere brute. It was easy to handle him like that: it was much easier to treat with a beast that required to be chided and domesticated than to treat with a complex creature of emotions, thoughts and feelings.

This was, Ignis thought, almost like having to deal with a real person. And if he was awful at something that was dealing with people. He could have skills for everything; he could sew, cook, battle, outsmart everything and everyone, he was a genius in the extent of the word…but he simply could not handle human relationships. Too quiet, too reserved, people said. Too weird, was often too. A dull sense of humor, could not comprehend jokes. Too harsh, too sincere. Too, too, too…apparently, the problem with Ignis was that he was ‘too much’ of everything he did in life. He was too smart and strong for average, but also too cold for relationships, too everything. Excess, he knew, was terrible, even if it was excess of something ‘positive’. And there the results: a human being with no successful social abilities. 

And now it seemed that not only did he have to deal with a beast to domesticate, but also with the human-like being inside it too.  
_Fantastic._

 

They did not dare speak to each other during the rest of the day nor the following one. Gladiolus did not seem particularly hurt by the events of that morning, but he also did not seem to be in the mood of going to ask Ignis for cooking. He had a point, after all, Ignis guessed, not helping but to look at the door of his room for a couple moments before each meal time, as if expecting anyone to knock on it, but never appearing. It was impossible to not consider this ‘non-personal’ like apparently the rest of their treatment had been so far. Of course it was personal, and both knew it. Still, the man did not want to go and apologize. His pride did not allow him to, and he considered it as a survival element as well; not show submission in any moment, not explicitly, or could the captor subconsciously acknowledge an early victory.

Ignis had really not thought about it until he was told that day. He believed fully from the heart that he ate so poorly out of a tantrum of the beast. He had dared to build in his head what he believed Gladiolus was thinking this entire time: ‘feed him so poorly so that his body built will decrease; feed him so poorly so that he’s weak most of the time; feed him so poorly so that he’s not in his best physical condition, and hence, it’s easier to keep him prisoner, and that way neutralize any attempts of murder from him; yes, feed him so poorly so he has no chances of a fight against me’. The only thing Ignis needed to add to his thoughts was an evil clichéd laugh, he thought after being revealed the truth, now that he understood the reasons.  
Never once had it crossed his mind that Gladiolus could have greater motifs behind some of the things he did…

Ignis had also been thinking a lot about what Gladiolus had said on “not having more” food and how salt was a luxury, not only in the personal kind of way like above, but rather in the literal sense of thinking about the food itself. The furniture had never allowed him to go see the pantries (they never explicitly forbid him, but they always offered themselves to go get the ingredients he required of; Ignis, overthinking again, had always thought it was their way of forbidding, ignoring they really were only trying to leave a good impression), so he had not had a way to know how well they were doing in stocks. He had never once even wondered how it was that they got things like pepper or a carrot. He guessed it had to be Gladiolus’ doing, perhaps on daily exploration around the surroundings of the castle, and hunting for the available meat. That sounded logic to Ignis, and he decided to keep that as the most possible truth. 

He thought that if maybe he could go to the market to get some proper supplies, or at least go help by searching in the wild for food and ingredients, it would be very helpful. They could have more to their use, and it could possibly make Gladiolus’ mood lighten a bit, by taking some of the job off his shoulders.  
And then he remembered he was not allowed even to the gardens, so there went all his planning.

But…  
_The gardens._  
But it was Ignis. One could say no to him and he would respect that…and always manage a way around it. Always finding legal holes.  
On the second day after their fight in the kitchen, he summoned a couple of his friends after breakfast, and gave them a task while he went to give more instructions somewhere else.

 

Gladiolus walked in on him that evening in quite an awkward way.  
During the situation he had thought he was feeling a déjà vu like those constant ones Ignis suffered, but it was something different; similar, but different.  
Almost like the reprise of a theatre play, Gladio had walked in the room not expecting anything from the man, and found him at an open window, like the first time they had argued about it, the back to the beast, sunlight around him.  
Except it was Ignis; he was boring and static on the average…but had spontaneous moments of randomness in which he acted as weirdly as Prompto himself did at times, not out of fun but in mere seriousness. Despite it being serious, it was still unexpected when Gladiolus walked in him like that.  
Ignis was standing on the windowsill.

Gladio stopped as soon as he walked into the room to find the human like that, opening the eyes wide. He stood there not understanding and not knowing how to react, watching the man standing on the windowsill, the back as straight as always, a hand for support on the casing, the other pointing something, gesturing to the outside as if talking with someone. The beast watched him as if he was committing sin inside a church, moving both hands ahead to point at the man as if demanding an explanation, paws up, and the question falling from his tongue before forming aloud. He turned to look for anyone and found the same shelf that had once let Ignis open the window before there was permission for it.  
“I tried to argue it” the shelf said with a little shrug. “But he’s got a point.”

Gladio, like the first time he had silently demanded an explanation from the same shelf, shook his head shortly and quickly at her, still not understanding. He looked back at the man and started heading towards him. As he got closer, he heard him giving instructions to someone outside, but he did not pay much attention to the words, continuing his way towards the human.  
“May I know just exactly what are you doing!?” Gladio questioned him loudly, but not a roar. Ignis looked over his shoulder and down at him, only inches taller that way.  
“I am not trying to escape if that’s what you think, sir” Ignis replied and his attention returned to the outside, but before he could continue with whatever he was doing, Gladio snorted and spoke.  
“Look at yourself, you look so stupid” Gladio said like that was the problem, pointing at Ignis with his paws pointing to the ceiling like someone showing off an object they cannot touch. The human looked down at him with a frown. “Why are you standing there? Get down and back in this same second.”

“I am not outside” Ignis complained with some arrogance, frowning and turning slightly, holding the jambs of the window carefully like it was fragile glass.  
“Yes, you are!” Gladio yelped at him. “You’re standing there like you’re a fairy tale princess summoning your bird companions, stop it.”  
“That’s a sweet comparison, thank you very dearly” Ignis said with sarcasm while nodding as if presenting a bow. Gladio snorted and tried to talk but the human was faster than him. “Am I a beautiful princess?”  
“You look stupid” Gladio ignored the sarcasm. “I told you to come the hell back inside.”  
“I am _not_ outside” Ignis argued back, frowning.  
“Yes, you are” Gladio replied taking in a shaky and heavy breath, clearly trying to contain himself, not glancing at the human and looking as if counting to ten in his head not to explode.  
“No, I am n-”  
“And I’m _not_ having this argument again, gods damn!” Gladio finally half-roared out at him.  
“Great! We save a lot of anger and vocal-chord ripping that way” Ignis said and turned his attention back outside.

He had started to move a hand up again to continue with whatever he was doing, but Gladio, with a subtle growl, frowned more at him and had started to reach a hand up, which stopped once nearby the human. Despite having stopped before reaching him, Ignis reacted to that and immediately turned as if to avoid him; despite standing on a windowsill, he showed no stumble when he stood on a side, a foot on the windowsill and the other on the air into the castle. He had even adopted some sort of half-guard-up position, and he looked with very attentive eyes at Gladio. The beast watched his movements and could not help a fleeting, shooting-star-fast thought; _a professional_. Gladio knew that this man had battle skills better and more developed than an average town-boy, but this was more than just ‘better’.  
These reflexes were worth of a Crownsguard member.  
_What is this man, and where did he learn this?_

Both glared at each other, but it was not anger. It was more of an expectation to see if anybody moved first. A few moments into the silence, Gladio motioned a hand like a host receiving a guest at the door into a ball dance.  
“May I gently suggest you get the fuck down the window?” Gladio asked with faked-on-purpose sweetness, and the human’s frown grew on him. “I forgot you’re extra sensitive and require to be spoken to like you’re His Highness.”  
“I do not expect royal treatment, gentleman” Ignis snapped at him, and despite the anger, his voice remained calm. “I only expect to be treated like a proper human being. And I’m not getting down from here, I am occupied.”  
“What with?” Gladio asked with annoyance, getting close to the window and motioning to move the man slightly to a side, who did as understood, if upset. 

Gladio looked at the outside and his mouth moved once as if to speak, but, again, words fell off his tongue. There were some coat racks going around the garden, in the distance, cutting the overgrown grass. A few scissors moved on their own, helping. Among them, he could spot some other furniture helping outside; he recognized the shovels, spades, spading forks and carts who had once been the royal gardeners going around and apparently raking the ground. Gladio watched the scene as if though they had turned back into humans with no apparent reason, saw them go around, speak with each other, work hard and clean a distant zone of the ground.  
“What are you-” Gladio had started, but he found it had been a murmur. Before he could raise the voice, Ignis interrupted him.  
“It’s called sowing, sir” Ignis stated as calmly as if speaking to a co-worker, standing on his two feet again on the windowsill. The beast looked up at him with total confusion on the frown. Ignis looked down at him, and when he got no reply, he opted for sarcasm again. “It’s when you prepare the soil to put little seeds in-”

“I know what sowing means, smartass” Gladio growled up at him, hating to have the man coming to stand on a place that gave him more height than that of the Shield, but not saying anything about it. “But _why the hell?_ ”  
“Well, it seems that I am not the best-behaved guest you could have had” Ignis said. “Hence, I doubt very highly you will easily grow any trust in me, mostly after I attempted an escape. So, if I am to stay in here for many months more, I am not willing to keep eating poorly prepared meals when I have the skill for great cooking results” by this point, Gladio rolled the eyes at the pompous way of speaking of the man, but looked back at him. It was annoying, but he did not find himself shutting Ignis up like previous weeks. “Besides, if there is anything I can do about it, I am willing to ease the conditions we live in; seen as we live together, it is unfair of me to do nothing when you have to go out every day to get ingredients.”  
“…what?” Gladio questioned after a couple of moments in silence. The annoyance was all gone and there was real curiosity in his voice. This time, he looked up at Ignis.

The man, however, stared away. For a moment Gladio was not sure what to think about it, because it did not look like Ignis was offended. He looked rather…insecure. _Shy_ , Gladio thought for a moment, but the mere idea of thinking that word made him furrow the eyebrows and laugh at himself on the inside; this man was everything but shyness. His heart was not warm enough to feel a single pinch of it.  
Right?  
“You have yet not told me the process of how you acquire the spices and vegetables we count with in the kitchen” Ignis said, still not able to look the direction of the beast, and too proud to put the chin down. “But you mentioned you work twice as hard to get twice the ingredients. I believed it wise to find a way in which we could struggle less with obtaining the food we require of, and decided to see if we could succeed in a planting space in the gardens.”  
“…what?” Gladio asked again, still pretty lost in what was happening all around him. 

“If the sowing blooms” Ignis continued, “we will have a space for some vegetables. Maybe not a wide variety, but I believed it could save you at least some of the effort…”  
Gladio raised the eyebrows at him. The human took some moments before he turned slightly and offered the side view of his face to the beast, only so that he could use the eyes to look at him. When he found Gladiolus keeping the eyes on him, the human looked down and away, still presenting himself unusually insecure.  
“This is…” Ignis hesitated some moments and cleared his throat. “Dumb. I am aware. But I believed there could be a chance for success and…”  
“I never said it was dumb” Gladio said with a smirk and a clear voice of mockery that only made Ignis looked further away. “It’s stupid. But not dumb.”

“That is so kind of you” Ignis replied in almost a mutter.  
“I’m going to laugh when you succeed” Gladio said and looked again at the outside. looking at all the furniture working around. Ignis was not sure how to take his previous words. “Look at them. Working in your place like you’re the commander of something. Don’t you feel bad, bossing everyone around while you watch like you’re the whiny teen prince of the castle?”  
“Well, they kindly agreed to help me with this, seen as I, oh surprise” he gasped shortly and quietly but with exaggerated drama at those last words, “cannot go outside” he finished. He looked down at Gladiolus this time, frowning. “Unless I want you to make a drama and break my nose only because I put a foot on the grass.”  
“Good to know you know your place” Gladio said firmly and with arrogance, sitting at the windowsill on the free side that Ignis was not occupying. The man, arm crossed, stood with the feet together in the narrow space that was left to him, but he did not look pressed into a tight space; like always, his posture was agile, like that of a fox. “So, what are you planting, Sowing Wizard?”

Ignis stayed quiet at first, not knowing at all if it was a sarcastic question or not. He looked ahead to the furniture working on the outside.  
“It’s summer” he said very lowly. “It’s appropriate for lettuce, Lucian tomatoes, radish, Leiden potatoes, among other vegetables.”  
Ignis looked slightly away again when he heard the beast laughing lowly. Every time he did that he made the man feel stupid.  
“How do you know that?” Gladio asked him with mockery.  
“I ignore if you have noticed” Ignis started as calm and low as before, “but I come from a small town. I am not a farmer, but I do know how these things function. Having to go around visiting the farmers all these years, I have gathered some information…very poor, but I try to remember these things…”  
“An amazingly developed memory, huh?” Gladio questioned him. The tone of his voice made Ignis look down at him with a little frown; it had sounded as if there was a hidden question behind, but for harder Ignis could make scenarios up, he came up with nothing that it could be. The beast, however, shrugged it off in an instant. “You still look stupid, though. Standing there.”

Ignis did not reply and did not want to, even when he had a comeback for that.  
“Speaking of food…” Ignis started in a voice that made Gladiolus look up at him again, sensing the change in the air. The man looked down at his feet, with a slight frown but apparently not one of anger. The beast waited a couple seconds before the man spoke again. “…I checked in the pantries. There is…” he cleared his throat. “…There is no anak meat left.”  
At the words, Gladiolus lifted his eyebrows, not taking the eyes off the human. Ignis was conscious of it but did not look away, even though he did not look in his direction either. For a second, Gladiolus thought he could or not have seen a very subtle shade of red upon the man’s cheeks, but that was maybe just the light of the sun or something. _Ignis has no heart, so he has no blood, he can’t blush even if he tried_ , Gladiolus thought. In the silence and getting no response, Ignis forced himself to speak again.  
“I thought it was…prudent to tell you.”

Instead of any answer that he could have possibly expected, Ignis felt his cheeks burn slightly when the beast, suddenly, laughed lowly at him.  
“Guilt enough, eh?” Gladiolus asked and crossed the arms, smirking.  
“I would not call it guilt; I just…” Ignis took some moments, embarrassed and trying to justify himself. “I…offended you…and you are my host, and…it is mere etiquette that I make up some way…and…”  
“You’re so sweet” Gladio laughed again, and this time he watched in pure childish pleasure the clear way that the man’s cheeks did visually turn to red this time. “Are you cooking it? For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have!”  
“If you continue with that…!” Ignis said in almost a yell, clearly tensing and turning to look down at the beast. He was frowning deeply in clear angered embarrassment, and his face was still red. He seemed to have stayed quiet by noticing the way his face burnt, and he snapped his head to the other side again. “I am not cooking anything if you insist to make fun of me or the situation.”

“So you really _are_ willing to cook that anak meat I asked you that day” Gladio said with more faked sweetness, smirking at the man and enjoying very childishly of messing with him. The human stayed tightly arm-crossed at his side. “Great. Can’t wait to try it.”  
“You may want to check your ears…” Ignis started, and Gladio let out a short but not sarcastic laugh, rolling the eyes and softly crossing his bear-like arms. “I told you there is no anak meat left in the stocks.”  
“Don’t worry” Gladio said with a small groan as he pulled himself away of the window, standing up only to put a hand on it, taking impulse and hopping to the outside. “I’ll bring you some.”

“W-wait” Ignis hesitated some moments at the first steps Gladiolus took on the outside. The beast turned to look at him again. “What do you- how?”  
“I sometimes hunt” Gladiolus said as a quote and Ignis caught it the very same second it was delivered. Both stayed quiet some moments and the beast smiled at him, still mocking, and winked an eye at him. “I just never get myself hurt or scarred…like some others. Puny.”  
“How did you-!?” Ignis tensed, the question a whispered-shout. Gladiolus laughed at the sight of the offended man. “Do you not, are you sure?” Ignis asked and pointed at his own left eye in a clear question. Gladiolus raised the eyebrows at him and shook the head.  
“That was not a hunt, princess” Gladio said lowly to him but offered no explanations, turning around and starting to walk away towards the outside wall of the castle.

“Will you please stop calling me that!?” Ignis called loudly at him from his spot on the windowsill. Gladio turned around and gave a few steps back that way.  
“I will” he promised, and then moved a hand up to point at the man with a claw. “When _you_ stop calling me ‘Sir’ and ‘Gentleman’.”  
Ignis lifted the head slightly at the words, and his shoulders tensed. He looked at Gladio clearly taken off-guard and almost not dissimulating. The beast arched an eyebrow at him.  
“I don’t mind you call me that…” he put the claw down. “But I do mind the sarcasm in them.”  
Ignis kept the eyes on him and blinked only once at him, the lips parting very slightly from each other. Still tense, he offered no reply, and his head was emptied from any possible comebacks. Both stayed quiet some moments, and Gladio, by this point, had turned fully to seriousness.  
“You see…” Gladio told him low enough to keep it private but loud enough for the man to hear from the little yards of distance set in between. “I know what I am. I don’t need your constant reminders.”

Ignis was able to keep eye contact for only a couple of seconds, before he blinked with hesitation at the time he looked away, the chin lowering slightly without him noticing. Gladio kept the eyes on him with no troubles on his side, before he turned around and started going away. Once he was aware the beast was not looking at him anymore, Ignis looked up at him and watched him go away, walk among the furniture that worked the ground. He saw most of them letting him pass by, but they did not seem particularly respectful or scared by him. They were not giving him the master treatment Ignis had thought they should; they treated him more like a friend.  
Gladiolus was not the master of the castle, he had come to realize…

The man stood there, quiet. This was the second time in a row that he felt humiliated in his daily arguments with the beast. This did not happen before the night of daemons.  
This had not happened before he had become aware that Gladiolus had real feelings under the fur and the fangs.

He closed the eyes and sighed, moving a hand up to push his glasses further onto his nose.  
Like always, feelings were but obstacles and difficulties.

\--

Ignis was at the kitchen by night that day, checking what was available for him to use and trying to be creative; he was not sure if Gladiolus wanted something specific with the requested ingredient, and most of the recipes he could think about that included anak meat needed of something else that was not in their hands. While he stood by the kitchen, an arm crossed and the other up for his hand to softly hold his own chin, thinking, he heard steps nearby. He had learned that Gladiolus’ steps were quiet, despite the big feet and claws. Like steps of a trained soldier. It made him curious, sometimes, the way Gladiolus presented some soldier-like behaviors, but he decided not to overthink on that and let it be. 

Soon enough, the beast was entering the kitchen, carrying a cloth as if it was a bag. He looked up at the human, lazily.  
“Well, here it is” the beast said at the time he dropped the cloth on the floor in the middle of the kitchen, right at Ignis’ feet, revealing an anak corpse in pieces. The man looked down at it and felt Gladiolus’ stare on him. If the beast was expecting him to react any certain way, he would wait in vain; Ignis had literally no idea how he was expected to response to this scenario, so he simply went with going down to his ankles and started analyzing the corpse. Gladiolus, standing in silence, watched him. Ignis, a slight frown on his face like usual, stood up again and adjusted his glasses on his nose.  
“It’s useless” he stated simply, calm.

“What?” Gladio raised an eyebrow at him, face blank. The man looked at him and crossed the arms.  
“I can’t work with this” Ignis said and turned from the corpse like it was not there, opening drawers to look for his cooking tools in total silence, like nothing had happened and like he was entirely alone. The beast, watching him do that as calmly, snorted and frowned.  
“Why the hell not?” Gladio questioned him. “It’s perfectly fine.”  
“Fine?” Ignis turned again, interrupting his activities to look at the dead anak at his feed. “Look at it. It’s all chopped in pieces and ripped. How do you expect me to cook a proper dish with this poor, inconsequent material?”  
“What is ‘inconsequent’ about it?” Gladio questioned by faking the man’s accent in the recalled word. That action made Ignis look up at him with a frown. “It’s fine! Just cook it.”

“No, sir” Ignis said and, by when he noticed what he had called the beast, it was already too late. He did nothing about it and continued. “Next time you bring me an anak corpse, make sure not to destroy it beyond fixable measures.”  
“Oh…right” Gladio let out long, slow and low, opening a bit more widely the eyes and nodding as if he had just understood how gravity worked or something as stupid. Ignis, knowing that look and voice, rolled the eyes and sighed in exasperation, preparing himself for the sarcasm. “Why did I not think about that? Of course, thank you, Ignis, next time I go hunt an anak I will gently ask it to be kind and let me murder it with a kind crack of the neck instead of fight it and its twelve companions off from letting them eat my face.”  
“I believed you stronger than a pack of anaks” Ignis said as if changing subject, eyes lazy and crossing the arms. “I am utterly disappointed.”

“They give me no troubles, smartass” Gladio argued back, but none had started to yell. “But it’s not like they don’t fight, you know? Not my fault I need to slash them.”  
“And not my fault you did a poor job handling the situation and brought something so useless for cook purposes” Ignis said and tiptoed one of the pieces of the corpse that had rolled close to him back onto the cloth. “Get it out of my sight. I am about to cook dinner and this is an obstacle.”  
“What? Are you really rejecting it?” Gladio asked him with indignation, but he had yet not come to roar. Ignis looked at him from over a shoulder, expression dead as always. “Did I go hunt for _nothing?_ ”  
“There is always a second time” Ignis said calmly and returned his attention to the vegetables on the counter. “I will cook the anak meat when you bring a decent example of a corpse and not shredded bits with barely any complete piece of meat that can be of use.”

Gladio had raised a finger’s claw at him as if about to nag and had opened the mouth, taking in a breath. Ignis, at the motion of the claw raising behind him (even if a few yards away), turned around to properly face the beast. Both stayed quiet, Gladiolus with the anger explosion in the tip of the tongue, mouth still open and claw still raised. Ignis looked at him, put the chin up, let his body relax into a casual position, and crossed the arms at him. The beast looked at him and shut the mouth, but his frown deepened twice what it already was. Ignis, however, only raised an eyebrow at him.  
Swallowing the pride, Gladio snorted and looked away.  
“Fine” he muttered. Said that, he bent down to take the cloth again to turn it into a bag with the anak in it. 

The man watched the beast stand up and turn around, heading for the exit. As he did, however, Gladiolus suddenly and subtly threw something from over his shoulder without looking back.  
Ignis could not help the little sound of surprise that escaped his lips when he had the piece of raw meat inches from his face. His reflexes were faster and he caught it before it could hit his face, and he stayed still, the fist up in front of his forehead.  
Gladiolus looked over his shoulder.  
Both stayed quiet and still in their places. Ignis had expected for the beast to laugh at him and his silly little prank, but Gladiolus was giving him a strange look, eyes slightly squinted as if he was suspicious of something.  
The silence lasted longer and Ignis, eventually, put the hand with the piece of meat down and he looked away only for a second. Whatever had happened, he could not decipher it and he did not like it. 

Gladio only looked at him a few more moments, before he turned again with a little snort.  
“Whatever” he said carelessly. “I’ll bring you something tomorrow and see if it’s worth of your majestic Highness’ desires.”  
For a reason, it fired Ignis up much more whenever Gladio called him something of the ‘emperor’ or ‘majesty’ sorts than whenever he called him by ‘smartass’ or ‘idiot’. It was possibly the sarcasm what made him as angered. Or maybe the fact that the beast was not only intelligent enough to speak, but also with a brain developed enough to deliver sarcasm…sometimes in amounts and quality as equals as that of Ignis’. The man offered no response to that and only turned around again, and both left each other alone.

Without the expected material, Ignis had to improvise with what he had in hands for dinner that night.

Like always, he left Gladiolus’ dish in the kitchen, and he left to another room with his own.

\--

“Okay, ass face” Ignis closed the eyes and counted to ten in his head at the voice and words of the beast; this was the most disrespectful Good Morning Ignis had ever had, but he would not argue that. He turned around after containing his anger, but not helping the frown, and found the beast walking in again, this time carrying with another cloth made a bag. They were at the kitchen again, where Ignis had arrived only a minute or two back to prepare breakfast. He stood quiet and watched Gladiolus drop the bag in front of him again, revealing some pieces of the hunted animal; it was not the entire corpse but rather selected pieces, and even though it was chopped, these were bigger and more precise cuts, done on purpose rather than looking as if though it had been chewed by a shark and then spat back three times. “Here’s it.”

Second try.

Ignis went down on his ankles again to start inspecting the meat. He removed some pieces and checked on some others, as if though trying to find the spot in which Gladiolus cut “slightly more to the left” to reject it. The beast watched him with an unimpressed expression, an eyebrow up. After a couple more inspecting, Ignis sighed and stood up again, calm.  
There was silence for a couple moments, Gladiolus smirking proudly at the clean work he had done this time.  
“…this doesn’t work either” Ignis said quietly.

Failure.

“Wha-!? But why!?” Gladio yelped at him, eyes going wide and body tensing. The human reached closer for the sink to clean his hands, gloveless only for a moment.  
“You cut straight through the thigh” he explained. “The way you cut the nerves and muscles turns them flabby and releases a toxin that-”  
“It’s _fine!_ ” Gladio argued almost in a tantrum, moving his hands up to grasp at his hair (or what Ignis identified as the equivalent of ‘hair’; the beast was all fur, but he grew a longer line of hair on top of the head, where it was smaller on the sides and long, choppy on the middle). “It’s perfectly fine, you’re just shitting me!”

“Think whatever you please, gentleman, but I am not working with what you’ve brought me” Ignis defended himself and the beast growled in exasperation.  
“You’re _very_ demanding for a mere cook, aren’t you?” Gladio asked him, frowning and starting to argue with the man.  
“I am, indeed” Ignis accepted. “You either do things perfectly well or you don’t do them. There is no in between. So, yes, I am pretty demanding.”  
“It’s just _cooking_ ” Gladio whined at him. “It’s not like you’re in some royal contest or like somebody’s going to slaughter you if you don’t make a perfect dish, dammit.”  
“Then what do you suggest?” Ignis questioned him more as an argument rather than really expecting any answer.  
“Just cook the meat, add pepper on it, and impale it” Gladio said as if though it was the clearest thing in the world at only half an inch from Ignis’ face and the man could still not quite grasp it. “You don’t need to cook some majestic anak _à l’huile des rois_ with ulwaat berries on a side or anything! Just cook this in skewers!” 

“Well, I-” Ignis had started as if about to burst into yelling, but he stopped midways and only swallowed in a tiny gasp what he had been about to say. He stood some moments there watching the beast, before his frown switched from anger to curiosity. “…excuse me?”  
“Skewers, it’s when you take a stick and-”  
“Not that, radiant sun of the smart” Ignis rolled the eyes at him. “Did you say _à l’huile des rois_?”  
“Yeah, I was being sarcastic” Gladio shrugged lazily at him.  
“I’m…surprised” Ignis admitted after a couple of moments in silence, looking away but clearly not uncomfortable, if anything just confused. “That was…your pronunciation was fine. Very fine. And the term was…I had no idea somebody else besides me…”  
“Spoke Tenebraean?” the beast raised an eyebrow at him. “Back at stereotypes and narcissism, little ass?”  
“It’s not that, I never said it as thinking you’re an ignorant” Ignis argued back. “I just find it curious because it’s not like everyone gets to learn another language, let alone such precise terms. How did you…?”

“Oh, I went to school” Gladio replied calmly by interrupting the man’s words. “You know, in the royal palace, with royal teachers, and books and a silly uniform and everything.”  
Even though the furniture had not had much participation in their conversations ever since Luna suggested they let them be, this time Iris had been at nothing of interrupting them. That was a very dangerous thing to do, let out the truth like it was nothing.  
But, to her half-surprise, Ignis rolled the eyes and sighed softly.  
“You’re exasperating” the man muttered. He had found it to be a lie. Iris, seeing that, calmed. Ignis now that his hands were clean and dry, took his gloves from the counter and started putting them back on again. “Fine, I’ll do something simple with the anak” he said, but before Gladio could cheer or make any sarcastic commentary, the human retook the word, “but I’m not working with this. Bring another one.”  
“Mother of Shiva, you’re _impossible_ ” Gladio growled at him. “That’s it, I’m tired. I won’t bring you another goddamn anak just because it displeases you how I cut it.”

“You have brute hands” Ignis stated simply, “and a lack of knowledge on how to properly treat anak meat. It’s not my fault.”  
“Oh, yeah?” Gladio asked him, pulling the cloth with the pieces of animal corpse away to a side so that he could free the way that separated them, taking a couple steps closer to the man, who turned his way and separated the feet, bending the knees so subtly it was almost unnoticeable; a clear and unconscious rush to adopt a half guard-up position. “Then go and hunt it yourself, dead face, see if you can handle it on your own.”  
“Ah! That’s a fantastic idea!” Ignis said with faked and over exaggerated joy and surprise, which made Gladiolus roll the eyes. “Why didn’t I think about that before? Oh yes, with the great range of exploration I am allowed to walk, I cannot wait to hunt from…” the man took only some moments before getting up on the kitchen’s counter so that he could reach and stand at the windowsill. “Here.”  
“Okay, Sass Princess, get off there” Gladio urged him, and Ignis tensed at the nickname. This time it was clearer, with the frown deepening and the glare intensifying, and the cheeks turning to a subtle red. Gladio added the nickname to the list of ‘the ones that make him the most upset’, reminding himself to use it with more frequency. “What’s your obsession with standing at windows like that?”

“It’s the closest I get to be to the outside” Ignis said calmly, climbing off the window and down the counter with graceful moves, like he was taking a stroll through a park and not hopping off furniture. Gladiolus watched his movements carefully, the way the man did not need to sit down at the counter to get off it. Like he did not fear. “And as you’re telling me to go hunt, and hunting is done outside, I think it’s an appropriate place to-”  
“Shiva have mercy on me, that was sarcasm too” Gladio rolled the eyes at him for the millionth time of his life. “You’re obviously nowhere near to getting to go hunt. You’d need to be outside and-”  
“I know” Ignis cut him midways. “I must stay here, locked in my room, crying in a corner of a tower, awaiting for Prince Charming to come save me.”  
“Pretty passive, are we?”

At that, Ignis opened the eyes wide at him and his shoulders tensed. In the very same second of hearing that, his entire face flushed in red and it was impossible to not notice. At the reaction gotten, Gladiolus could not help it but start laughing. Properly, not a sarcastic chuckle or a subtle and mocking laugh. This was proper laughter, not especially strong nor low. He moved a paw up to rest it to his stomach, lifting the chin lightly while the joyful sounds escaped him. While he laughed, Ignis took some seconds before reacting again, and the only thing he was able to do was to move a hand up as if to slap the beast, but he was too tall and currently out of his reach, so it was easier to hit him on the shoulder as if to shove him back. It worked only in half a step.  
“I was kidding, boy” Gladio said while tiny ‘Hah’s still escaped him at times, looking down at the man, who still flushed red and was looking away. “Don’t get so fired up.”  
“Assuming somebody’s sexuality and preferences out of a mere, sarcastic comment…” Ignis started nagging him.  
“It was a _joke_ ” Gladio repeated to him more firmly and a bit slower as if trying to reason with a dumb squirrel. “Chill.”

Said that, he bent slightly down, a hand coming to rest on his hip.  
“But good to know you know your place” Gladio told him cautiously, and Ignis looked away, crossing the arms. “Inside.”  
“Inside” Ignis repeated after him, quiet. The beast muttered a low ‘good’ with a smile at him, and both stayed quiet some moments. 

In the silence, Gladio turned around and had started to make his way to the door. Ignis had yet not cooked and he had kept very clear that he did not want the beast standing nowhere nearby until he would be done, so Gladiolus simply walked away every time they were done arguing. Ignis said nothing, like usual.  
By the doorframe, Gladiolus stopped. He remembered about the last time he had walked away of the kitchen, the way he had thrown a piece of raw meat over his shoulder so subtly nobody would have noticed. The piece was small enough to go unseen but still land on its target. He had wanted to mess with Ignis, see him flinch or maybe even hear him yelp at the unexpected piece of raw meat crashing on his face. Maybe get it stuck on his glasses. Something funny.  
But the man had turned, raised a hand, and had caught the small piece in a fist just an inch from his face.

Gladio thought about that moment, turning to see him. Ignis standing there, the fist in front of his forehead, the arm strong and firm. And the eyes. Those eyes of green fire. Such a soft color, the most peaceful green in Eos, the quietest shade of grass, the subtlest emerald color…it was not possible it could hide such a strong, brute, destructive element like a red fire behind. But there it was. Gladio had been subtle and quick in his action. There was no way anybody would have noticed. But there was Ignis, half the guard up without noticing, a fist up, the body reacting faster than the mind.  
_This is not a random town boy._  
It had at first been only a way to put in words the realization that Ignis was smart and strong. But now it sounded like a true statement in each of the words, individually. What had been “a way to say it” had started to turn into a firm statement.

_What is this guy?_

The Shield took in a breath that made his chest raise for a moment. He heard the man in the kitchen moving some things, preparing his tools, most possibly. Gladiolus thought only for a moment about that moment of the man catching the raw meat, the impressive way Ignis outsmarted him back when he had thrown himself down the fourth floor but had it all planned, his way of handling the daggers in their first meeting. The reflexes. Even the smaller things, like his way of standing.

Gladio had been about to take another step ahead when he froze in his place. It took him only a couple seconds before he looked over his shoulder. He stayed quiet, meditating only some moments on the matter.  
“Hey, Ignis?” he called. The man stopped arranging things in the kitchen to look over his shoulder, quiet. “I still want that anak meat, but I’m not going to hunt it anymore. You, demanding princess.”  
“That’s a shame” Ignis said calmly. “You will have to go to the market, then, though. I see no other way I can cook it other than first acquiring some.”  
“Hah, hah” Gladio said dully and blankly. “Can’t do that. So you’ll have to get it yourself.”  
“How, that would be an interesting question to answer” calm and sharp, like always. “Do you want me to really try from this window? I would catch a thing or two.”

“Do you handle anything else that isn’t daggers?”

Ignis stayed quiet at first. He dared look up and half turn this time, suspicious. He looked at Gladiolus with caution, analyzing him. Or trying to. The beast looked back at him as cautious.  
“…lances” he said. They spent some moments in silence, and he could not recognize what Gladiolus’ eyes were saying; there were letters written in them, Ignis noticed that, but they were in a foreign language he had never seen before. Something, Gladiolus plotted or suspected or planned something, but what?  
“Good” the beast said. “Get prepared, pretty boy.”  
“For what?” the question was delivered with caution like anything he would say would reveal a venomous snake from somewhere and had it attack him.

Ignis knew exactly what the answer would be, but it did not make sense in his head. He needed to ask to confirm he had understood well, because, if he did, it was senseless.  
“What else?” Gladiolus said with a small shrug. “We’re going to hunt. Together. You’re coming with me.”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, suspicions confirmed against all odds.

“Are you scared, dead face?”

This made no sense.

Ignis adjusted his glasses.

“No. Are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had lots of fun with the dialogues in this one. I hope one or two earner a laugh or a little smile. :)
> 
> PS: I don't know Tenebraean. But French looks like it so deal with it.


	11. Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware! Especially long.
> 
> I feel guilty for the length of chapters. Would you, readers, like me to shorten them for your comfort? 
> 
> I'd appreciate some answers on it. I feel the length is scaring people from reading.

They had to wait until the following day because Ignis almost set the castle on fire, metaphorically of course, out of mere anger that evening.

He had a point to his favor, most furniture agreed afterwards: after all Gladio had been very, deeply wrong with what he did.  
He requested of Ignis to wear a leash.  
He merely showed it to the man and that was enough to have him lose his head and go completely nuts like somebody had just decided to slaughter all the Lucians at once only for fun. They had decided to meet by “lunch time” at the main doors, so they still had some time. But right when Ignis had thought it was all prepared, Gladio asked him to wait a moment and said something among the lines ‘need that you put it on’.  
Right after, he pulled a leash from one of the bags and offered it to Ignis like a friend offering a magazine to the other; casually, an everyday thing.

Needless to say, Ignis blinked at it and then looked up at Gladiolus with a careful look that the beast had known only in his mother; the eyes looking above the glasses and the eyebrows very slightly furrowed in a very clear threat that said aloud ‘I will ask you to say it again; I heard fine the first time, I’m just giving you the chance to change what you said’.  
Some of the furniture that had watched literally went away and into another room, keeping an ear up but too scared to see what would be next; one did not need to know them to know Ignis too well to know that, while reserved, calm and silent, he could be mortal if properly upset. Other furniture, like the usual quartet of friends, looked at the scene with wide eyes and clear fear because they knew none of them was kidding.

Ignis kept the eyes on Gladiolus, and Gladiolus kept the hand up friendly offering the leash to the man. The tension was palpable. Ignis was pure fire in that moment, except bottled up, but prepared to detonate in any moment. Even bottled up, the fire in him was so great anybody in a radius of a mile could feel it just by glancing his way. They spent awkward and long moments like that, and the beast only shook lightly the hand as if encouraging him to take it.  
“…are you… _serious?_ ” Ignis questioned low and very slow, even though it was clear he was very tense in a non-nervous way. His mouth had troubles opening due to his jaw staying tight, his teeth clenching. The lump of his throat moved slightly at times and his chest was rising and falling more clearly than before. Gladio looked at the man and how altered he had come to be, but did not put the hand down.  
“No, I’m Gladio” he replied and he saw the way Ignis’ glare intensified on him. There was so much tension in all his body that, paying attention, Gladio could see a vein coming to appear from under the man’s skin, on his neck. Ignis breathed heavier than usual and every breath out was a snort. More furniture, watching as the scene developed, subtly started exiting the hall, terrified of the human. Despite the clear anger, Gladio still offered the leash to him again. “Come on. Take it.”

Ignis still gave him some seconds to consider what he was saying, but the beast did not seem to catch what was going on. The man kept the eyes like that, gazing above the glasses at the beast. When he realized Gladiolus was not going to take his words back, the man slowly managed a smile on his lips, eyes still not moving. A couple moments later, Ignis let out a breathed chuckle and looked away. He kept the eyes away some moments before he looked back at Gladiolus, tilting the head lightly to a side, smile on his face but he did not look joyful. The expression made Gladio a bit nervous, because it still reminded him of his mother when she went (in Gladio’s words) “angel-disguised fiery demon mode”.  
“Gladiolus…come closer” Ignis requested softly with a sweet and low voice the beast had not heard before.  
It was frightening.

The beast hesitated some moments, looking at him. Ignis had the arms softly crossed, the head still tilted lightly, and he had a smile that made him look like a shy girlfriend watching her boyfriend with care. Which, again, was scary and not a single bit relaxing. Gladio looked at his sides, confused, before looking again at the man.  
“Come here” Ignis encouraged him, voice still low and motherly. The beast hesitated again, but eventually put the hand down, still gripping the leash, and he took some insecure steps forwards before stopping. “No, closer.”

Gladio gave him a suspicious look, analyzing the man from head to feet quickly only once, before taking more steps closer. Ignis encouraged him again, and after a couple of steps more, Gladio had to stop; he had come to stand ridiculously close to the man, nothing intimate but yes, considering they had never been this close unless it had been to fight or argue.  
“Now please come down, I want to tell you something” Ignis gestured at him kindly, and the request only made Gladio even more nervous and confused. This was completely unexpected; Ignis’ change to sweetness would have been a fantastic demonstration of submission, but it felt…strangely off and odd. There was something wrong under that caramel voice. The beast, however, did as he was told, and he leaned down insecurely until his face was at the height of the man’s, inches apart. 

There was silence. Silence in which Ignis only smiled kindly at him. Gladio still could not find the calm or the sweetness in the moment; all he felt was some irrational fear and the desire to step back and look away, but he kept the eyes, slightly widened, on the man. It took Ignis some moments, but he soon opened the mouth, took a little breath in without taking his eyes off the beast’s, and spoke slow, terribly slow and calm.  
“If you… _ever_ …ask me…to wear a _leash_ again…” it was a whisper. A low, dark whisper that only the two could hear. “…I will go to your room at night…while you’re sleeping…and I will tear your eyes out their sockets…” The human raised a hand and softly raised an index, which stayed in between their faces, slightly to his right side as if making a statement or nagging, “with a _spoon_.”

Gladio looked at him with new eyes; those of a terrified being. Ignis, on his part, had the calmest stare and smile. The statement itself could have passed as an empty threat, but the way Ignis looked at him, with those blazing eyes that burnt like Ifrit’s hellfire and that voice, so low it was barely a whisper and darker than any daemon’s skin, Gladio could not help but suddenly swallow almost involuntarily. In another situation he would have replied something, but in those moments the only thing he could do was feel panic in his head and heat on his face from the fear. Ignis, on his part, kept smiling at him. 

“I don’t care if you’re stronger, friend” Ignis continued in that low whisper, and the nickname made Gladio shiver in something that most clearly was not any positive feeling. “I don’t care if you kill me. I will make sure to first rip your eyes out, with a spoon or with my bare…own…two hands, and bring them down to hell with me, and I will make sure you don’t _ever_ forget how it felt and _who_ did it to you.”  
Gladio kept the eyes on him not because he was too proud to look away, but because he was _frozen_. There was something in Ignis’ firing eyes that did not allow him to look away. He almost felt sweat on his face at the mere whispers.

He flinched and did not even think on dissimulating when Ignis got even closer. Their faces were mere inches apart, five as a maximum, and the man moved a hand up to rest only one single gloved fingertip on the beast’s cheek. Gladio, at the contact, flinched again and swallowed a gasp. He was trembling very subtly, and he had troubles keeping the eyes on those burning green.  
“So _don’t_ … _ever_ …suggest I wear a leash again… _in your life_.”

Gladio could feel the man’s breath on his own face, subtle but heavier than it should be. At the words, the beast’s eyebrows twitched and he swallowed again. Despite his own terror, and completely incongruent to it, Ignis, on his part, smiled lightly at him and was as firm as no wall has ever been. They stayed quiet looking at each other some moments, and then Ignis dragged the fingertip on Gladiolus’ cheek, slowly and so carefully it was more like ghosting it rather than touching, down to his chin, right under the lips. Gladio watched the finger, trembling, like it was a knife, and then looked up at Ignis to the eyes again.  
“Did I make myself clear?” the words were still whispers, and once finished these last ones, Ignis smiled a bit more widely at him, blinking twice from behind his glasses. Gladio heard perfectly fine. But he, for once, had no comeback. He had nothing in the head but Ignis’ words, the sensation of the finger on his chin, and those eyes that burnt so much the beast felt their heat as a literal thing.  
Quickly but shortly, in total silence, Gladio nodded at him, swallowing. 

They stayed quiet only some moments, before Ignis widened his smile a little more and gave half-a-nod, softly, not taking his eyes off the beast’s in any moment.  
“Good” he whispered. “Now, do not try to answer me. Do not say a thing. Go to your room and do not make any little, tiny, microscopic sound until tomorrow” said that, Ignis put his hand away, and Gladio shivered at the loss of touch as if though it had been the tip of a sword finally being removed from him. When he looked back up, Ignis was not smiling anymore. His face had gone ice-cold, and the gaze had turned into a glare. It made Gladio look down, then back up by feeling nervous at the sensation that, if he looked away, the man would murder him right then and there. “Did you understand?”  
With the same eagerness than before, Gladio nodded at him. 

Ignis kept that same expression for what felt an eternity and was only seven seconds. So angered without even frowning more than just slightly. There was still fire in his eyes, but his expression was dead cold. Perhaps, Gladio realized, it was not fire what this man had inside in those moments; maybe he had turned into a deadly coldness, which would explain his expression and air, but a coldness so great that it _burnt_. Gladio was about to look away when Ignis, same expression, nodded very, very lightly at him, so subtle only the beast could have noticed the movement.  
“Good” Ignis said and the small smile returned to him, except he kept the eyes squinted into a glare. He moved the hand up and, using its back, he patted under Gladio’s chin twice, making him flinch again. “Leave.”

The beast still took some moments, but as soon as Ignis adjusted his glove on himself, an action that was completely harmless but made gladiolus react anyway, he stood back up and hesitated some moments. He took three slow, trembling steps back, still staring at the man. Ignis was not looking at him anymore, but when Gladio stopped walking, Ignis glanced at him from above his glasses again with that deathly stare. The beast, at it, make a little sound alike a tiny contained ‘Kuh’ in the throat, looking at the man only for a second before turning around and start walking hurriedly away. Gladio looked from over his shoulder as he walked, messing up in his way out of nerves, stumbling upon his feet at least three times even before reaching the staircase. Once there and three steps up, Gladio stopped and calmed a bit, daring to look back again. Ignis was still standing in the same spot, looking at him from over the glasses, head down. And, finding the beast looking at him, he raised an eyebrow.  
Gladio swallowed and started hurrying upstairs again, decided to not look back and not come out of his room for the rest of the day.  
And, of course, decided to burn the leash and never think about one again, in his life.

\--

“Man, he just sent you to your room” Noctis laughed at Gladio while hopping into the beast’s room, smirking and still laughing. At his side, Prompto made his way towards the bedside table, where Iris had already climbed already. “Like a mom.”  
“Dude, that was so scary!” the candelabra said while making his way up the unanimated furniture, soon on top of it, and eyes finding Gladio, who was currently sat at his bed, eyes still wide like he had watched a sadistic murder before him. “I was pissing myself and I didn’t even hear a single word of it! What did he tell you? Man, that scared the hell out of me.”  
“And it wasn’t _you_ he was talking to” Gladio reminded him, slightly anxious. “You were pissing yourself? Imagine what _I_ was feeling, holy shit.”  
“He just sassed you to your room” Noctis laughed, apparently still entertained by the same thing. “Like a _mom_.”

“That was not like a mom” Iris argued. “That was like…like…some ninja assassin.”  
“I knew Ignis could be scary, but this is a whole new level” Prompto continued, apparently amazed. “That was not scary, that was the creepiest, most terrific thing I’ve ever seen, seriously. You didn’t even need to hear, you could feel his anger from miles in the distance.”  
“And his eyes” Gladio said, looking like he had just seen his own corpse and was still trying to understand whether he had to be confused of terrified. “Guys, his _eyes_. They were…just…burning. I can’t find other word. Like, they were piercing right through my soul like a nail, I couldn’t move or reply, I couldn’t even _think_ with those eyes on me” he sighed. “They guy is fierce to levels I have never before seen in anyone, and it’s not a compliment. That’s not even a man. That’s gotta be a daemon in disguise.” he stopped only for a second before continuing. “Like a tonberry. He looks cute, sure, but he’s _mortal_. And…I mean, he _does_ handle a kitchen knife. And _could_ pull my eyes out with a spoon.”

“We had betted it would be with a fork” Noctis said with a little shrug, still smirking, “but a spoon will do.”  
“Did you just call him ‘cute’, Gladio?” Prompto asked with a little, silly smile and suspicious eyes. Gladio looked at him with slight nerves, but he had been that way since entering his room.  
“I mean, he _is_ kind of cute” Gladio explained as if defending himself. “As in, not as in- I mean as in, cute as in he just _looks_ cute. He’s clearly not, he just threatened me of torture with a spoon, but he looks like that. You know, with the glasses and the face and the stupid hair and the eyes and…yeah. But mortal. Very mortal. Deathly mortal. Mortally mortal.”  
Iris rolled the eyes at the redundance but decided not to recall anything about it.  
“A tonberry sounds suitable for him” she nodded. 

“Except he’s worse” Gladio continued with a bit of an overdramatic reaction. “The guy’s like a one-man-daemon-army. And so coldblooded. What the fuck am I doing sleeping in the same place than him? Holy cows, you two lock my window, I’m going to sleep under lock from now on.”  
“Are you scared of him?” Noctis asked still with a little mockery. His Shield looked down at him with a failed attempt of a frown.  
“No” he tried to say loudly but it came out in a normal voice. “I just…well, I am, but it’s not a constant thing. I’m just scared of him only right now. I think I…well, I’m sure- I kind of upset him, and he’s a bit fired up, you know?”  
“Well, with your constant arguments, I thought you’d have a comeback” Iris said and it sounded like a question. Gladio turned to look at her, still sat at the edge of his bed.  
“Iris, you don’t get it” Gladio said. “He was terrifying. So terrifying he _controlled_ me. I’m sitting here understanding only right now that I was sent to my room like he’s my mom.”

The comment made Noctis snort and start laughing to himself again. They let him have his own fun on that.  
“Iris, he was about to explode for real this time” Gladio continued. “I had his face an inch away and he was burning in anger. No way am I getting near him in a damn entire week.”  
“You know what all this reminds me of?” the clock interrupted from his place, staring up and still smirking, faking to be thinking things through. “It was this once, when I went to you, Gladio, looking for help on advises about romance and that dumb stuff…”  
“Which time?” Gladio asked him, raising a teasing eyebrow at him. “You’re so lost on the matter you came to me like a million times. Loser.”  
“H-hey!” Noctis started complaining, flustered. “That’s not my point!”  
“Then what’re you talking about, Noct?” Prompto questioned, curious for real, looking down at the clock as well.

Noctis reached for the lowest box of a drawer nearby, opening it with a sigh of laziness before climbing onto it only to sit down on the clothes folded in there. Once he sat with another tired sigh, he closed the eyes and yawned a bit before continuing.  
“I mean this one time when we kept talking and talking about that stuff” he started, “and we somehow ended up talking about what we liked in a person. Remember, Gladio?”  
“I like many things in people” the beast said. “So?”  
“I remember, what were your words again?” Noctis said a bit teasingly, before smirking again. “Ah, yes. You said that you liked shy people, but you preferred the real dominant ones. You said something like ‘almost as dominant as I, but only enough to put me to the test’. And…how did you say it? Ah, yes” Noctis stopped here for a moment only to start wriggling the eyebrows at his Shield. “Someone that could be ‘so fierce they could order me and I’d obey’. Something like that?”  
“I mean- yes, in my human years I loved the fantasy of someone as strong as I” Gladio admitted. “But I meant someone fierce and strong, not a damn master tonberry in disguise that scares the hell out of me to the point of fucking stress and terror.”

“Ah, come on, that’d be a good challenge” Prompto argued like that was the matter. “Besides, Noct kind of has a point, Big Guy. I mean, if you consider him cute and he’s also what you look for in a person…”  
“Mother of the Six, guys, that’s brute bestiality” Gladio said opening the eyes a bit more. “I _was_ human, sure, but now I’m _this_. You can’t think for real I could grow a crush on the guy, we’re literally different species.”  
“You know, Gladio” Iris chimed in, softly. “Your body changed…but your heart definitely didn’t.”  
There was some silence after that.  
“I mean” Iris continued, “I know you don’t have a crush on him. But you’re aware you _could_ grow it, right?”

Gladio looked at her some moments, his finger fidgeting with each other for a moment, before he looked away and groaned quietly.  
“Don’t be ridiculous, you all” Gladio said. He stayed quiet some moments, frowning, the elbows resting on the knees. He looked at his hands with seriousness. “…I’ll be careful.”

It was not a fully worded idea, but the three friends understood each at their time and each their own way. In a part, they understood Gladio had turned to seriousness in what had started as a matter of comedy or kidding around.  
After all, the rose did have only about six petals left. 

“Well, now gotta wait until tomorrow that I can take Sass Princess out to hunt” Gladio changed subject and the color of his voice, crushing the serious air and trying to cool the mood. He stretched the arms a moment before resting part of his weight on the hands back on the bed. “I gotta study him.”  
“I still don’t get why” Prompto, curious like always. “I thought you were being nice, giving him a chance to go outside. What’s to study?”  
“There’s little he’s shown, and he probably doesn’t notice” Gladio explained, “but there’s…something about him. Something…it almost makes him feel familiar. Not as in his face or him in general…more like the way he moves” the Shield looked up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. “…it’s almost like he…”  
“…like he…?” Iris tried to encourage him, but Gladio did not reply. He merely shook the head after a moment before lying in bed.

“Never mind” he sighed. “I’ll see tomorrow. For now, time to hit the sack.”  
“Uhm…not that there’s anything wrong with that, but…” Prompto started saying after a couple of moments, scratching at the back of the candle of his head. “…it’s…like 4 in the afternoon, buddy.”  
“…right” Gladio muttered. “I forgot…I’m not usually in my room this early…”  
“We could go out and-” Iris started suggesting.  
“And disobey him, accidentally make a sound, and have him exploding and coming to my room while I sleep to tear my eyes out their sockets?” Gladio questioned with what almost sounded as exaggerated-on-purpose anger as if to make them laugh, but he partially also sounded real. “Thanks, no. I’ll stay here.”

Noctis did not say anything, but he kept the eyes on his Shield. Watched him calmly resting on his bed, hands behind the head, an ankle resting on a raised knee, and the wolf foot lazily dancing on the air to some soundless tune. The king watched him; he was relaxed, eyes closed and only resting there. Looking so different to the previous days in which he and Ignis argued. Looking calm. Even bored.  
Looking sane. Looking human. 

The king of Lucis said nothing on the matter, but he started wondering if the wonderful job Gladiolus had been doing the previous weeks taming the beast was his doing alone, or if he was getting help from someone else without noticing.  
Who would have thought, Noctis wondered in his head, that the person that cold bring the beast to bloom the most could also be the one taming it the best?  
Ironic. But definitely not bad.

\--

The following day, Ignis greeted Gladiolus as if pretending nothing had happened and the beast acted the same, even though the air was clearly tense between the two; Ignis had not only been offended by the leash, he had also been offended at the irony of it; the fact that a beast was telling _him_ to put on a leash so that he would not escape. Ignis would have murdered anyone that made the offer, because he was not an animal, and it was offensive to cosmical heights that somebody would ever consider him that, not to say go to the limits of explicitly telling him, directly or indirectly, that he was a brainless beast, let alone with such an action like offering a leash…and to crown the already magnificent cake, adding the fact that it was a literal beast who had done that? It took all of Ignis’ self-control to not explode right then and there and only stop to make the warning. And it seemed to have worked, since Gladio, in those moments, still presented himself oddly nervous despite his attempts to dissimulate.

They decided to meet at the kitchen for the hunt a couple hours past each of their breakfasts. Ignis arrived with his usual upset expression, and Gladio kept the eyes on him like what was entering was a snake; it could be only passing by as much as it could be pretending to only pass by and end up poisoning him in the last expected moment. Still, he tried to pretend he had not almost dirtied his pants out of fear the previous day and, without greeting each other, Gladio opened the back door of the kitchen, the one that led to the gardens.  
“…well” he said. “Ladies first.”  
Ignis decided to ignore the comment and start heading to the door. Gladio tensed once the man was standing nearby him, but Ignis did not show to have noticed at all. 

Once he was standing at the opened door, Ignis stopped.  
He looked at the outside. The grown grass of the gardens, the clear sun of summer still not on top of the ceiling, a couple butterflies passing by, and the external wall of the castle, far but visible. And there, dual doors leading to the outside.  
It was strange; the outside. Ignis had spent three months locked in a building, huge and new to him, but a building nonetheless. Despite the balconies he had found, the open hallways exposed to air, even the interior garden he had found, this felt completely different. It felt as if though he had been wearing tight boots and he was about to try soft sandals on; he was not used to…the freedom of it, and the sensation made him hesitate at first. Three months. It sounded like so little, and yet, only then that he was realizing how strange something as daily and usual as going outside felt did he notice how long he had been there.

Curiously, Gladiolus did not rush him like Ignis realized he could have done after spending about two minutes just standing at the door, looking at the outside. He did not want to wait until the beast could think of any sarcastic commentary, so he, a bit weirded out and not helping it, soon put a foot out. Unless he wanted the beast to bump into him and throw him down, Ignis had to move and started walking a few steps before coming to a stop, thinking for a moment that if he rushed or slowed too much Gladiolus would think he was trying to escape. He looked back at the beast again, almost as if looking for approval, and the idea made him sick, but he contained it.

Gladio flicked a wrist lazily ahead, raising an eyebrow and muttering a low ‘Come on’ of encouragement. He carried a lance and a greatsword (‘unnecessarily big’, in Ignis’ opinion), both resting on one of his shoulders. Ignis kept the eyes on him a few more moments, and, hesitating a bit all the way out of not knowing how to act at all, he started walking in a straight line towards the outside wall. Gladiolus followed him only a step behind, slightly to a side. At first he found it weird that the beast had decided to walk behind, considering that Ignis had not a single idea of where they were heading and could not take the lead, and also because he knew how proud Gladiolus was; he would want to be number one in everything, included such a stupid thing like who walked faster than the other. 

But, considering it, Ignis realized it was but mere simple strategy from the beast; having Ignis walk ahead of him was a way of always keeping him in sight range. Easy and obvious, but a detail that could have slipped past any other person’s attention. Ignis praised him in mind in a non-flattering way. While they talked in silence, Ignis looked at his sides, attentive, and could finally get a proper close look of the gardens. The grass was fully grown and all the bushes, flowers and trees were a growing wild with no control. There were plants climbing up structures, and he sometimes spotted small glimpses of black bricks among a wild miniature forest; the grass and plants had grown to fully cover some structures he would not have seen had he not walked nearby. As he approached the northern wall, he found the walls to be infested of plants as well; it did not look bad, but it gave it the sensation of being in ruins. 

He had been quite distracted staring around that the walk to the doors felt short. He stopped close to them and showed no signs of wanting to do anything else, and looked over his shoulder at Gladiolus. The beast was looking at him in silence, giving him a suspicious stare. The man was too used to it to care anymore. Gladio snorted slightly as in some non-joyful chuckle, and walked past Ignis to the doors. He did not need to put any of the weapons down to use the other hand; he took a key hanging around his neck and opened the dual doors. He pushed them open softly (as soft as his big paws could do) and looked back at Ignis. The man, in total silence, stared back at him with full attention. He gave slow, very cautious steps without taking his eyes off Gladiolus, both expecting for the other to do something, both awaiting for any single movement that could give them an excuse to start physically fighting. 

Ignis gave a step, and Gladiolus did not argue it, so he felt brave to give a second, wait a little, and give a third. The fourth one brought him to really be _outside_ this time; fully outside, and not only in the big gardens. Ignis kept the eyes on Gladiolus’. They looked at each other in silence, tense. There was not a sound from either of them, not a single blink. After a couple of moments, Ignis decided to stop staring at him not to make him any more suspicious and try to act casual. He stared away and raised a foot to continue walking.  
And before his foot could land, he was roughly taken from a wrist.  
He could not help a tiny groan more of surprise rather than one of pain when Gladiolus’ hand closed around his left wrist and pulled him a bit harsher than necessary but nothing that would bruise his skin. Helplessly, his body turned in the direction the beast had pulled him, and now he was not giving him his back but rather a side. He looked at the wrist Gladio was holding up, by the height of the man’s face but to a side, and saw his hand trembling on top of the furred fist.

He looked up at Gladiolus, eyebrows furrowed but not angered. The beast, on his part, was frowning down at him, eyes glaring.  
“Try a single thing” the beast started whispering to him, “and I’ll cut you in half.”  
Ignis did not reply. His hand kept trembling, and he tried for the rest of his body to stay still, but he could not tell if he was succeeding.  
“You’ll go where I tell you and not a single step further to the right or left, did you hear me?” the beast continued warning him, shaking him lightly but with strength from the wrist. Ignis looked down at it before back up to the taller figure’s eyes. “Don’t think that only because you have a weapon there’s a chance; I’ll be watching you all the time. You can try and attack me by behind, but I swear to the Six that I’ll cut you in half before you kill me” it was still a murmur but it was harsh, teeth clenching in between some words. “So, you decide whether you want to stay obedient and spend a couple more months safe in here, or if you’ll go home carrying your legs in a bag.”

It was not an empty threat, and Ignis did not need to be told twice to know it. He did not reply.  
“Did you hear me?” Gladio concluded, still frowning down at him. Both stayed quiet looking at each other.  
Suddenly, Ignis lowered slightly the head, eyes looking down.  
“Yes.”

Gladio looked at the man for a couple moments; the head had moved only a few inches, but it had clearly lowered. The eyes were fully down, and Ignis was not frowning. To his surprise, he had not had an aggressive or sarcastic comeback, like Gladio had expected at first. ‘Yes’. That and the look of calm resignation were everything. For a moment, the beast hesitated if this was the same man that had become a living torch the previous day with the need of only the eyes. Suddenly, Gladio’s frown faded. While staring at him, he felt his fist softening, and he remembered he was holding Ignis by the wrist. He looked at the grasp, now softer. He looked back at Ignis, who was still staring down. Gladio, a bit lost, brought Ignis’ wrist closer at the time he turned the grip so that the man’s arm was on top of his paw, and he opened his rough, big fingers, freeing him.  
“…did I…” Gladio whispered. “Did I hurt you?”

At the time he asked that, he used the tip of his thumb’s claw to remove Ignis’ long sleeve to reveal the skin underneath. Gladio could see it was not bruised, but he caught that in a glimpse; Ignis, as soon as the beast had removed the cloth, snapped his hand away and he held it with the other, frowning weakly at the beast, uncomfortable. Gladio blinked once while looking at him, understanding.  
“Did I?” he insisted nonetheless, the voice soft. The way he sounded true even if only out of formality seemed to have taken Ignis off guard; his frown weakened even more and he looked away. Soon, he shook the head softly. Gladio still looked at him a bit more and the way he let go of his hands, putting both down. “…fine. Let’s go.”  
Ignis stayed quiet. Gladio offered him to walk ahead again, and the man had no option but to start going, each step a step away of the castle, his prison.

“Just know that I have no single clue of where we’re heading, gentl-” Ignis stopped in the middle of the name, grateful that the beast was not looking at him to the face. “…Gladiolus. So, it is not in me to blame if I ‘give a step further to the right or the left’; I don’t even know where I should be going.”  
“I’ll tell you” Gladio replied simply. “Turn a bit to the left.”  
“Of course” it was a bit sarcastic, but an answer nonetheless. Ignis did as he was told and continued walking, calm but not slow.

They continued a couple of moments like that roaming into the wild. Gladiolus had yet not given him any weapon and was still walking behind him. Ignis was really not planning to attempt any escape, but he considered Gladiolus’ cares to be very prudent and wise; the beast knew well how to handle him without the need of that goddamn leash. None of these attentions were required, since Ignis would not try to escape any other time again, but they were good on their own.  
They walked for quite some long minutes, mostly in silence, before Gladio asked him to slow down and be careful.  
Soon enough, a few moments into the careful going, Ignis spotted a pair of sabertusks. 

He stopped in his place as so did the beast behind him, both slightly down on their ankles. Ignis looked at the animals with eyebrows furrowed, confused.  
“I thought we were looking for anaks?” Ignis questioned, and saw as the beast put the arm that carried the weapons down. The man turned to look at him, and saw Gladio looking at him.  
“Not today” the beast said and passed the lance from a hand to the other, so he was holding each weapon in a hand this time. “You’re pretty good on the defensive, but I haven’t seen your offensives. I don’t want to accidentally let you get killed.”  
Ignis opened the eyes a bit more than normal at him, and Gladiolus only side-smiled slightly.  
“Are you calling me weak?” Ignis questioned him. The beast shook the head and stretched an arm so he was holding the lance out to Ignis.

“Don’t Drama Queen me” Gladiolus said still smiling slightly, offering the lance to the man. Ignis looked at him with a frown, then at the weapon, and back up at him. Gladio stayed quiet, and the man soon stretched a hand carefully ahead. As soon as his fingers ghosted the metal, Gladio pulled the lance away of him. Ignis rolled the eyes, sighing in exasperation. “Don’t try anything funny.”  
“I already promised not” Ignis muttered a bit in a hiss, stretching the arm quickly to get a grip of the weapon, impatient. Gladio let go of it calmly and kept the eyes on the man. Ignis, on his part, only frowned at him some moments before looking at the lance in his gloves hands. 

It was…a royal weapon. Perhaps not worth of a prince or a king, but it was not something you would find in any workshop or store of town, not even the best ones he could recall in mind. He had had good weapons, but this one was not only great for fighting, it was also crafted to look beautiful. Most of it was black, except for a couple golden lines, one almost on top of the grip and the other on the bottom of it. The blade itself was not only a simple metal piece, it was greatly made and with an elegant but deathly shape. It was bright grey, under the light seeming to spark slightly blue. Between the blade and the grip, there were two metal decorations, like a pair of wings pointing downwards and wrapping around the top of the grip.

He stared at it and frowned. Did he…know this sort of weapons from somewhere? Feeling again that despicable sensation of déjà vu that apparently chased him ever since the first glance he gave to the Citadel and that had yet not stopped to appear at random moments in his stay there, Ignis looked at it with some attention, rolling it in his hands, admiring it but not comprehending at the same time.  
“Well?” Gladiolus interrupted his thoughts. “Are you standing up and offering a fight or not?”  
“…why the sword?” Ignis asked him after a few moments in silence, standing up and deciding to ignore the thoughts in his head.  
“I need a weapon too” the beast said casually as if it was completely obvious. The man nodded at him but gave him a frown of confusion.  
“You didn’t need one yesterday” he stated. 

Gladio stayed quiet. He had an explanation to that, but not one he could give to the man without triggering his thoughts.  
“…I had one, you just didn’t see when I picked it” Gladio muttered at him and looked away. Ignis found that explanation to be dull and not a reply at all, but he nodded slowly and stopped staring at him. “Do you think you can handle those sabertusks on your own?”  
“They’re just two” Ignis said bitterly and almost offended for real. “This has to be a joke.”  
“If I leave them all to you, will you die?” 

Ignis looked back at him with a frown. He said nothing before he stood up and started approaching the pair of sabertusks all on his own. Gladio raised the eyebrows at him and nodded to himself with a whispered ‘Okay’. He stood there but held the sword up to his shoulder; so long he was looking, everything was under control. He watched Ignis approach them and go back to his ankles, walking cautiously and half-hiding in the tall grass, like a lioness. Gladio rolled the eyes and smiled with mockery.  
Soon enough, the man emerged from the grass; almost jumping out and with a turn of the torso, he brought the lance up with both hands and strongly hit one of the animals with the blade; at the same time it whimpered and as soon as the hit was given, Ignis only turned the torso again and had the arm flying to the opposite direction, and he hit the other sabertusk before it could even realize what had happened to the first.

With those two hits, one per beast, Ignis cleaned that area. He stood in between them and put the lance down before looking back at Gladiolus. The beast raised both eyebrows at him, but he did not seem impressed.  
Gladio had to admit that had been good…but it had been so good that, he realized, this was not a challenge to Ignis. If he wanted to expose the man and see him show off his real skills, he needed of something bigger. He started going closer towards the man, still holding the greatsword against a shoulder.  
“Not bad, pretty boy” the beast said while approaching. “But that was a babies’ game. Think you can handle more of them?”  
“What kind of test are you putting me to?”

Gladio blinked down at him, raising the eyebrows, though his eyelids remained half-closed, as if feeling bored and sleepy.  
“Test?” Gladio asked.  
“Would you ever take me out hunting for friendship?” Ignis asked him, chin up and the lance still in a hand. “My question is, why is it important to see my skills on hunting? Is it so you can measure how dangerous I can come to be with a weapon?”  
“Heh” Gladio’s mouth snapped with the little chuckle. “Still pretty paranoid, are we?”  
“You’re not any better on the trust matter than I” Ignis remarked to him, raising an eyebrow. Gladio mirrored his action but added a sly smile on his part.  
“Nothing escapes your eye, huh?” the beast questioned low but not in a murmur. As any reply, Ignis shrugged one shoulder at him. At the way he was standing plus that action, Gladiolus had been about to call him by ‘Sass Queen’ this time, but he merely smiled at the man. “Let’s go; there’s more sabertusks this way.”

Ignis said nothing and started walking again. This time Gladiolus was not going precisely behind him; it was more like a side-to-side going, their feet moving the grass underneath and hearing its brushing sound, avoiding a bush every now and then. It was mostly another silent walk before coming across the following hunt; this time, there were about six sabertusks in view. Gladio gave the man a teasing look which only angered him in a childish way (and Gladio knew it), before Ignis simply did as before and started heading towards the enemy like before, cautious but in a straight line, no fear in the body or eyes. 

Gladio had the chances of seeing him in action with more attention this time. He stood dangerously close to the battle range, a bit nervous because, despite the weakness of the animals, they still outnumbered Ignis. Perhaps it could not be a mortal issue, but it was not like he wanted them to eat the man’s hands either.  
Turned out to be that Ignis handled it perfectly fine.  
He required of much more than just jump out of the grass and slash twice, but he also was not injured in the process. He went into the danger zone and let himself be noticed instead of taking the enemies by surprise; he rounded them never once giving any of them his back, and when the first sabertusk decided to run and jump towards him, Ignis entered into action; he put the lance up in a way so the animal crashed against it and rolled back; he twisted the lance in his hands, made it spin only for a second before coming to slash down onto the head of a second beast, pulling the blade out to hit a third one with the base of the grip.

Gladio watched from afar. The battle lasted more this time and allowed him to analyze the man with a little closer attention.  
Ignis had skill. Too much skill. His movements were rusty; his feet were a bit dumb; his hands were not as firm; he slipped once or twice, and had anybody else watched that they would not have noticed, but it was Gladiolus, trained an entire life into the battle arts. Ignis was not moving like a soldier, but he had the skills of one. He looked like a man who had battled like an expert before but had not stretched his muscles in months.  
Which, Gladio noticed, was _exactly_ what it was.  
He kept a slight curse in his mind and started calmly heading there, only in case he was needed; he had thrown the man in battle not remembering he had done but walk around hallways, never a proper training or work-out, for three months, and he had probably upset Ignis enough to make him forget about that little detail too.

Gladio, however, was only useful for two of the sabertusks; by the time he arrived, Ignis was done with the other four. He had not had major troubles on it, but it had not been as easy as the first time either. He breathed heavily and was staring to sweat. Ignis only heard when Gladiolus arrived and slashed; he only required of two swings of the greatsword and, when the man turned to see him, the animals had fallen already around them. He stood in his place, panting slow but heavy. He put a hand to his waist and the other holding the lance while resting it to the ground.  
“So?” Ignis asked, still breathing shallowly. “Did I approve?”  
“Do you call _that_ a ‘hunt’?” Gladio asked him teasingly. Ignis looked at him with slightly widened eyes and the expression of being taken off-guard. He opened slightly the arms at him as either a question or a dare, looking at a side before shaking the head in short movements at him.  
“Well, how would _you_ do it?” Ignis questioned, pointing at him only slightly with the lance. 

Gladio smirked at him, and then motioned for him to walk somewhere else. Ignis rolled the eyes lightly, but he started heading where the beast was requesting him to. It was a short walk before coming to spot another, larger group of sabertusks pacing around. Ignis looked at them, before he turned when the beast looked at him. Gladio, smiling, pointed at one of his own eyes with a claw in a clear motion for Ignis to pay attention. The man showed no reaction in his harsh expression of everyday. Soon enough. Gladio came from the bushes they were hiding in and went with firm, strong steps towards the animals.

It was a short demonstration. Gladio defended himself against some, put others apart, and handled the sword to protect himself and send sabertusks flying away. Ignis realized, soon, that he had been doing that only to come to stand in the middle, surrounded in a circle by the animals. At first, Ignis had thought it a wrongly executed strategy, or better said a lack of strategy movement. Gladiolus proved him wrong when, once standing in the center of that circle, he spun around over his heels with great skill, letting out a loud groan as if some war-cry, and ended all the enemies with that one single hit.

The man raised the eyebrows at him. He came from the bushes at the time Gladio brought the sword to rest it on his shoulder again, standing straight again and turning to look in the direction of the man, currently heading towards him.  
“ _That’s_ how you hunt” Gladio bragged. “Swift and strong.”  
“Well, I do have many points against my favor” Ignis said lowly but not in a murmur, and clear not trying to hide it. The beast did not question him; instead, he chuckled mockingly at him.  
“Puny.”  
“Brute.”  
“Bet you can’t handle flexitusks.”  
“Are we going to senselessly slaughter beasts in their natural habitat only to put ourselves to the test against each other?”  
“Well, unless his Cooking Majesty believes the meat is not worth his kitchen knife, then it’s all useful.”

At the new nickname, Ignis almost reached closer to hit the beast on the shoulder again, but he did not. He contained himself but could not help the frown and the heat in his cheeks, even though no coloring changed in his face. He snapped his head another way, and Gladiolus laughed at him some moments, adding the name to his list.  
“Let’s go, Kitchen Prince.”  
“I have not called you anything offensive or sarcastic these last days” Ignis nagged him with a calm voice, still frowning as he started walking with Gladiolus at a side. “I don’t see why you insist on yours. That gives me the right to continue calling you other things, you know that?”  
“Then do” Gladio shrugged at him. “I don’t get all flustered like you.”  
“You’re so irritating, Gladiolus.”

The beast only laughed at him again. Ignis looked away, a bit confused; it had been an argument, yes…but it had felt different than the usual ones. Maybe even as the opposite of a fight.  
Ignis had almost found it enjoyable.

Soon enough, the hours would fly by walking and hunting together, with some arguments in between. The sun moved from its place across the hours, and both of them went from spot to spot, unhurried, cautious, and battling. Gladio got many more opportunities to see the man fight, and discovered a battling side of him he did not know existed but had suspected about; he got to see him not only slash with a lance, but also handle it like a magician with cards; skillfully, swift and smooth, and almost with grace like it was but a joke or an art. Gladio got to see him jump, see him roll. He even saw him do acrobatic moves he had not expected from the man despite his earlier suspicions; saw him roll and use one hand as impulse on the ground, roll on the air, take impulse on a foot, go back into rolling in the air, and end up applying all the gathered force into a slash.

He saw him doing back-flips. He saw him throw the lance in the air, roll under a beast, stand up and catch his weapon again. He saw him throw the lance ahead and bullseye his objective. He saw him roll in the air like, instead of hunting, he was a gymnastic trained to do good-looking, pompous rolls.  
Gladio found that to be excitingly fierce.

Hours turned what had started as a test into what almost felt like fun.

They decided to stop only because Ignis had clearly come to tire until exhaustion. For how proud the man was, it was probable that he had been too tired to continue and still did for an hour before coming to stop, and if he called for a break that was because he had crossed the line beyond the line of what he could cope with in that moment. Besides, Gladiolus had seen enough. Much more than enough.

They had to have walked at least two miles from the castle, and even though not every single minute was spent in a fight, the little moments in which they did face an enemy had been tiring. Ignis grew frustrated at the third fight by realizing how ridiculously tired he felt and how much he wished to lie down on the grass and drink a lot of water; he could not remember a single once when he had come to be like this only out of a few fights with usually weak beasts. He had faced _daemons_ , literal daemons, and even though it was not a piece of cake, it was stupid to think he had been able to handle Red Giants before and a couple of animals were tiring him the same.

The last of the hunts they faced before getting a proper rest had been unexpected to both; a couple of killer bees appeared from somewhere as if in ambush. They were messier to handle, with an exhausted Ignis not entirely on disposition and this not being precisely Gladio’s forte; he was the big and rather slow but fiercely strong type of fights, and the bees were fast and small. They would have been much easier for Ignis, would the man be on good conditions.  
To say they had “teamed up” was not at all correct, but not a lie either. They did not share many words, and they definitely messed up a couple times by ignoring fully their partner’s rhythm and patterns. They were complete strangers as hunters, so there was not a way for them to enter some or any level of synchronicity at all. Each fought on their own but without forgetting they were together; each faced an opponent, allowing the other to cover his back, but that was as close to ‘team work’ as they would get. 

The battle ended with Gladio slashing onto a bee that Ignis brought down to the ground with the blazing hit of his lance. As soon as it was over, Gladio pulled his sword up again and closed both fists, bringing the elbows down in a motion of triumph while letting out a harsh ‘Yeah’. Ignis, on his part, only sighed in tiredness and put the head down, smiling to himself. He made sure, however, to erase the smile before Gladiolus could see him when both turned to look at each other. They looked at one another in silence for a moment, and the beast smiled at him.  
For once, he did not seem sarcastic at all.  
“Enough and too much for today, Kitchen Prince. Let’s get going.”

Both were mostly quiet while returning to where they had left their two bags filled with the useful meat they had managed to get. Once done, they started heading back to the castle, still seen in the distance, even though it would take quite a while before getting there.

Ignis did not complain once, but Gladiolus noticed anyway the way his body betrayed him with each step. In the middle of the way to the castle, the beast stopped.  
“It’s clear in here; no chances for anything to ambush us” the beast said with a little groan while stopping in his way and putting the tip of the sword’s blade on the ground. Ignis stopped, a few yards away, and turned to look at him with a slight frown of confusion. “Let’s rest.”  
“Tired already?” Ignis asked him.  
“You tell me” Gladio pointed at him for a moment with a finger. Ignis looked away. “Hey. No need to get all flustered like always. It’s fine you’re tired. Besides, I could really use a break, too.”

“I do not get ‘all-”  
“Yes, you do” Gladio shut him at the time he started going down onto the grass, a tiny groan sounding in his throat as he did. He stretched the legs and leaned his weight onto his hands, the sword at his side. He spent some moments there before turning to Ignis again. “Well, are you sitting or what?”  
“You know, you’re completely off-guard right now” Ignis stated. “I could-”  
“Will you?”  
There was silence. The beast looked at the man and raised an eyebrow with a cocky grin. Ignis looked away.  
“No.”

Despite it being an argument, Ignis found this one to be the same than the ones they had shared all over their evening of hunting; it felt…strange. It was not firing him up despite the nicknames, or at least not the same way than when they argued in the castle. Perhaps all the fire of his anger had been consumed the previous day on the leash matter and right now he could only feel…  
_Like we’re joking._  
Strange. Senseless. But he could not deny he had almost smiled a couple times across the day.

A few moments later, Ignis joined him, with three yards in between. He sat leg-crossed on the grass, and rested the lance on his thighs, still holding it but much more weakly this time. A sigh of relief escaped him once he was resting there, and he put the head down, exhausted. Both stayed quiet, sat there, their backs to the castle, watching the field open before them. The place they had picked was clear from bushes or trees, and there were flowers nearby all around. It was part of a downhill rather than flat ground. A butterfly passed by and waltzed in the air, bringing a gust of wind with it that gently stroked both fur and skin.  
Minutes went by in total silence. Ignis closed the eyes and let the air of a proper outside caress him, wanting feel ever millimetric sensation on his skin, how fresh the air he breathed felt, the way his hair moved, the feeling of the wind on his arms and clothes, to save that moment in the physical and emotional memory in case he would not get another chance in months or perhaps even years.  
Gladio let him, in complete silence. 

It was about ten minutes, ten long, eternal but peaceful and wonderful ten minutes before they broke the silence. It was, strangely, Ignis who did it for once.  
“Did I approve the test?” he asked but it did not sound like a reprimand. Gladio laughed very lowly.  
“Yeah, you did” he said casually. “Calm down. I’m not plotting anything. Just wanted to see you in action. I’m not going to murder you or anything.”  
“Good to know” Ignis sighed. 

There was some silence again. Both watched the field that opened at their feet. A lake in the distance, shining under the sun, which was slipping its way into the horizon. Rock structures further away. Trees and colorful spots that were most likely distant flowers. Animals roaming by, in peace. Ignis looked down at his hands and hesitated some moments.  
“…while I do like the new air in the castle what with the windows opened” he started lowly, “I must say being properly outside is…different. It feels different. In a very… _very_ positive way” he continued. He paused for a moment and turned to look at Gladiolus. “I shouldn’t do this, but…” he breathed in and looked away again. “Thank you. And before you shut me and tell me it’s nothing personal but a mere formality, I’ll tell you that I’m a man of honor and I have the need of thanking you whether it is personally or not, so you cannot reject it; I’ll say it anyway. It’s etiquette.”

Gladio was taken a bit off guard at the rushed but incredibly firm last statements. He stayed quiet at first, but he soon smiled and chuckled, looking away.  
“…you’re welcome” he said lowly, the eyes in the distance. Ignis stayed quiet and subtly looked at him. None said anything for a while again. A few more minutes passed before the beast spoke again. “You’re very skilled, you know that? Where did you learn to fight?”  
“…I…think…” Ignis hesitated. Gladio subtly looked at him by moving only the eyes in his direction. “…I don’t quite remember. I guess…I must have started very young, with whoever taught Ara-” he cut himself midways, and his voice lowered when he corrected himself “-…the other townsguards.”  
“I thought you were a teacher” Gladio said as if casually. “Why did you learn to fight? I mean, daemons, sure, but…wasn’t it easier to leave it to the townsguards and that’s it?”

There was silence. Gladio’s suspicions raised when he realized the man did not have an answer; he was not hiding anything or looking for a lie, but he also was not empty in the head. He really had no answer, and he was looking for one. Ignis frowned at his hands and it was clear he was trying hard, and that was all the answer Gladio needed, so he decided to stop pushing him so far. It could be dangerous for both of them, and for an entire kingdom as well, to let Ignis keep thinking.  
“Well, whatever” Gladio said louder this time. “You’re really good, you know that. You have a sweet way of battling. So smooth and careful. You make it seem easy.”  
Ignis came from out of his head and turned to look at the beast. He gave him a look that almost passed as that of innocent. At first Gladio was ignoring him, staring at the distance, but he soon turned to look at the man and smiled.  
“That’s a compliment.”

Ignis seemed to react at that with a blink more notorious than the usual ones. Both looked at each other some moments before Ignis stared slightly, very slightly away, moving a hand up to adjust his glasses onto his nose.  
“Thank you” he said out of formality, and the way his eyes had slightly changed directions ended in him looking at the greatsword resting at a side of Gladiolus’ big hand. He looked at the blade, and his eyes, like with every new thing that managed its way into Ignis’ range of sight, started scanning it inch by inch, fast but careful, like reading a map. “You’re…very good with the sword, too. I had thought…” he stopped there and moved a hand up to clear his throat. “I offer apologies, but I had thought you hunted like…”  
“Like an animal?” Gladio asked him after a small silence. Ignis kept the eyes down. Eventually, he nodded.  
“Like an animal” he whispered. “I’m sorry. You’ve proved me wrong multiple times. This one, for example; you don’t only handle a double-hand sword instead of using claw and teeth, you also master it.”

Once said that, he looked back up at the beast to the eyes, and continued talking.  
“You battle…like more than a man. You battle like a greatly trained and skilled soldier” Ignis continued saying, and even though he was being kind for once and was delivering some compliments of sorts to the beast, Gladio did but to tense; the man was entering a dangerous thinking zone that could trigger him. Ignis did not notice the tension and discomfort. His eyes went down to the sword again, eyes still curiously roaming over it. “Double-hand sword. That’s an…” there was a strange pause in which Gladio tensed more; something had changed in Ignis’ trail of thoughts. “…interesting…choice for…”  
There was silence. Gladio watched the way Ignis’ eyebrows slightly furrowed and his eyes squinted very lightly, looking at the dark blade.  
“…for you…” Ignis looked up at him. He still had that thoughtful expression that did but deepen. “…Gladiolus…”

The beast watched with attention as Ignis looked at him and then back at the sword. He looked at it more moments and the déjà vu struck him like a house falling onto his head, but he resisted. He looked intensely at the sword as if wanting to make it explode by using only the gaze.  
Gladio, on his part, looked at him. He realized Ignis had connected both things, the concept of the weapon with the sound of his name, and had come to unite both threads. He had discovered the connection between the two, but still could not name it. Gladio looked at him with a frown.  
“…double-hand sword…Gladiolus…” he called lowly and made that emphasis on the name as if though saying it aloud would solve his raging thoughts. Ignis, after some moments, returned the glance, still intense like looking for the answer in the eyes now that the blade had not told him anything. “…my apologies, it may be absurd of me to ask, but…may I ask…do you have a last name?”

Ignis knew that it was absurd, but it did not feel absurd. For an odd reason he could not comprehend, he was suddenly unable to say Gladiolus' name without feeling like his tongue wanted to add a second word, something, something that was on the very edge of his lips but could not manage to land. Gladio understood. He understood the way Ignis’ mind was working in those moments; how he related the huge sword to the name Gladiolus, how he connected both concepts. In the subconscious, Ignis had already realized fully who he was talking with. The back of his mind was pushing him too hard with the answer, but the conscious was an unmovable object; a great force pushed onto it, but was unable to bring that wall down.  
Gladio thought for a moment. He looked at Ignis for a couple of seconds, and realized how easy it would be.

How easy it would be to say ‘Yes’. To tell him his last name. To introduce himself as “Gladiolus Amicitia, eldest son of Clarus Amicitia, who was sworn shield of King Regis”, and then remember he had already taken his father’s role and the king now was Noctis. “You know, the clock that casually calls you Specs.”. It would have been so easy to tell him he was given the power to pull weapons out from thin air thanks to the prince’s lent magic and that was why he had walked away of the castle ‘without’ a weapon the previous day. How easy it would be to tell him, so that Ignis could remember everything. Could easily tell who he was. Realize he had been wrong; understand this was not Gladio’s true form, and change his attitude. Show himself less uptight.  
Comprehensive.  
_Sympathetic._  
How terribly easy that would be.

“No” Gladio muttered at him. “I don’t have a last name. Why would I?”  
Ignis looked at him some moments as if he already knew the answer and was expecting for Gladio to change his words and give him a confirmation. But there was only silence. The man nodded slowly and he even looked disappointed when he stared down, back to the sword. He kept the eyes on it shamelessly and not caring that the beast was still watching him.  
This déjà vu was too strong for him. He was hating the sensation of having something in the very edge of the edge itself of the head and not be able to land the thoughts. It was terribly exasperating, so he started pushing his mind much more than he remembered to have ever done before, pressuring it into landing whatever he was thinking about.

_Gladiolus…_  
Gladiolus…and a double-hand sword…  
The Citadel, Noctis, the skull patterns.  
Gladiolus…  
Gladiolus…A…? 

The pain struck him in the head like a thunder.  
Ignis had not realized when, but he had shut the eyes when he the hit; unexpected and too quickly to even notice where and when the strike came from. He came to realize only when the sound of his own voice hissing out a groan of pain reached his ears. He had a hand up holding his head, buried into his hair. His head literally throbbed and he could feel one of his temples bumping. His teeth clenched before and after the groan, and his fingertips were pressing hard against his scalp. _This is ridiculous_ , he thought. A déjà vu so strong he was in literal physical pain. He struggled and was unable to think any second longer. He opened the eyes again, feeling terribly weak and as if though the ground was melting under him, giving him trembling legs and nausea.  
“…you okay?” he heard Gladiolus ask him lowly. It still took him more moments to calm down, the breath shallow and the head still throbbing under his hand.

He tried to say something but found himself unable to do it. He took a few seconds to breathe and open the eyes, before he managed a rushed nod. Gladio looked at him a bit analytic.  
“…it’s only…” Ignis managed to murmur. “…headache. A terrible headache.”  
“We better get goin’ back to the castle, then” Gladio said and sat up properly rather than stand the weight on his hands, turning to look at Ignis again. “You’ll rest in there, once we’re safe.”  
Ignis did not reply, and only nodded again after some moments. Eventually, he let go of his head, but his hand stayed close to it, as if prepared to hold it in the moment it decided to explode. It was ridiculous. A déjà vu could not be this strong. It was not normal to feel dizzy out of one.  
While he stayed there, Gladio pulled himself up from the ground onto his feet. He stayed quiet and pretended to stretch his body some moments. 

He had thought on hurrying the man and call him some nickname from his list of ‘The Ones that Anger Him The Most’, both out of childish and harmless malice and to see if that could help lift the mood. But he, oddly, found that to not be the appropriate moment. He scratched lightly under his own neck before turning to Ignis again.  
“I’m sorry” Gladio heard himself murmur, even though it was loud enough for the man to have heard him. It had been so unexpected that Ignis, among his terrible headache, looked up at him, curious and a bit confused. The beast swallowed to see if that way he could literally swallow the pride too, and kept the eyes on those green ones. “I think I pushed you too hard, back there, hunting. It was too much for one day, and I didn’t put a stop in time.”

Ignis furrowed the eyebrows at him, more confused than upset. His mouth deformed into the beginning of a ‘What’ that he could not end up formulating.  
“I pushed you too far. Got you all worn out. Hence the pain” Gladio said. While it was not a lie, he knew fine that it was but an excuse to hide the real reason of the headache. “My fault. Let’s go. I’ll carry the bags.”  
Ignis watched the beast as Gladiolus, like he had not just said or done anything great, reached for the bag of meat Ignis had previously been carrying and held it with the other one, throwing it above his shoulder, before reaching back for his sword in the other hand. While he gathered around their stuff but the lance, Ignis only watched him, confused.  
This was not Gladiolus’ normal behavior. To Ignis, of course. He almost behaved…  
_Like a proper man._

“Coming? Or are you going to wait for the Garulas to find your corpse and eat from it?” the beast asked him lowly. It did not sound like a threat. Not even like he was trying to argue.  
Ignis, eventually, pulled himself up from the ground. Gladiolus offered no help and only stood two yards away, watching the man do it himself. Ignis’ legs hesitated only once and he had to stay still for a moment for his legs to remember how to work. Gladio pointed with the chin on the direction of the castle, and the man nodded at him in silence. “You okay or shall I carry you like a princess?”  
“I’m fine” Ignis muttered at him and started walking. Gladio watched his legs hesitate a few seconds.  
“You know, I won’t touch you if you don’t want” the beast said and Ignis stopped to look at him as Gladio caught up and stood at his side. “But you can lean on me if you’re about to fall down. I mean, if you’re not disgusted or if that doesn’t make your gloves useless afterwards or something like that.”

It did not sound bitter. Ignis looked at the beast some moments, not knowing at all what to feel. Even though he was not sure of it, he did know that anything he would have felt would have been a reaction a realization that he did manage to name this time, unlike the déjà vu.  
_He’s being kind. Roughly and a bit irritatingly and it’s not working, but kind._  
Ignis decided to stop thinking about it when he realized he had been staring at Gladiolus to the eyes for too long, and that his mouth had been about to betray him to deform into a smile. He hoped not a single inch of the line of his lips had moved, but the idea of having smiled even if too subtle for Gladiolus to have noticed made him put the head down and away, suddenly having a childish and too paranoid struggle on not knowing where to look at.

“Yes” he whispered. “Thank you.”

The headache, while much softer, was still present and his head insisted to throb, but it was getting better.

After some minutes, they reached the castle without major troubles, and both parted ways when they entered through the kitchen, with only a few shared words, but no argument. No nicknames.  
When they had been heading back to the Citadel, Ignis had had no need to reach a hand for support, nor did he lean onto the best’s arm. He had not needed it, and had not especially wanted to.  
But it was not like he would have rejected it had he required of it.

Once in his room, the furniture found Ignis to be especially quiet, but he did not seem upset. Indeed, while he was not smiling, he was not frowning for once, and he looked like he was in peace.  
Ignis took an oddly calm nap that evening, and Prompto could have sworn he had smiled in his sleep.

\--

A man’s word is a man’s word…  
But the heart of a father can be stronger than honor.

Stronger is not necessarily a vantage. Love could be so strong it could come to cause harm. The heart of a father could be so strong it could outstand the sense of honor, and go over any promise, pledge or righteous action for the love of his child.  
Caleo Scientia did wrong that night, but he had liked to believe he did right.

He was not to be judged, for his actions were not those of a weak man, or a despicable one, nor was it treason, or stupidity. It had been love. A terribly strong love that made an inconvenient duo when matched with misinformation. Nobody could blame the blind for mistaking the devil with God when both spoke kindly to him.

That night, Caleo had gone to the outskirts of Northern Insomnia, headed south, the direction of the lone hut illuminated by fire and magic. He had thought things through both with the head clear and with the mind clouded, and he always ended up with this answer. Something had to come out of this, he had thought. Scientia father had spent days, long weeks of agonizing doubt and sorrow, trying to build the courage to do this, and courage to also not do this. He was not sure what to surrender to. The brain or the heart. The treaty or a counterattack. The waiting or the saving. The long, torturous doubt, or a snapped answer, whether positive or negative.  
The word of a beast, or the magic of what to Caleo’s eyes was a man fallen from the heavens to solve every and any miseries. 

He called at the door, nervous and still insecure, after having hesitated at the porch for five minutes in total silence. He sweated coldly and he had troubles breathing, but it had nothing to do with his health.  
“Come in” the voice he already knew called from the inside. “It’s open.”  
It was always open. This hut never shut the doors to anyone, no matter their circumstances. He attended everyone the same; the weak and strong…the sick and the healthy…the poor and the wealthy. The brokenhearted. The lost. The missing.  
Caleo turned the knob and, still hesitating, entered in the hut. Things were a bit messy, papers scattered around, some vials and recipients all over the table and the shelves. There were potions here and there.  
But his eyes caught the figure standing at the other side, giving him his back, focused on something else. With his usual long, maybe even oversized black coat with grey and white trim…the grey mantle of intricate patterns that rounded his shoulders and ended above the elbows.

And the distinctive black bycocket with a feather of the same color, on top of the also distinctive red-violet hair.

“Ah, it’s mister Scientia the second” he was greeted when the figure at the far end of the hut turned around, head first and body following in his always casual, carefree and even flamboyant way of moving. “Are you alright, Caleo?”  
“A-ah…yes…I’m doing fine…” the man greeted back, the head slightly down and his hands fidgeting with his own hat, nervously. “Thanks to you, that is…Healer Izunia…”  
“Now, no need for compliments” Ardyn smiled back and it looked almost a bit devilish. It made Caleo doubt on his decision; there was a reason his son had never liked this man, after all. But he was already standing there, so there was no turning back. “I see you’re a tad bit nervous” the redhaired said with a little emphasis on the last word, but he was still smiling that strange look of his. “Is anything the matter?”

“…yes” Caleo murmured, the eyes going down again. He stayed quiet some moments. He still hesitated. In all honesty, he was not sure of what he was about to do. But he would never know if he never tried. “It’s…I thought…I think…that I require of your help, mister Ardyn…”  
“And I live to serve the people” Healer Izunia said with a bit of a pompous reverence that Caleo found unnecessary, but he was too focused in other thoughts to care. “Is your heart giving you troubles again?”  
“Not quite…not that way…” the grey-and-brown haired man shook the head softly. There was a bit of silence. “It’s…about my son…”  
“Ah, the poor young man…” Ardyn said lowly and slowly, nodding and the smile much smaller now until almost disappearing. “Have you had any news on his whereabouts?”  
“I don’t…have any clues…” Caleo said and Ardyn had to focus to be able to hear him at how quiet his voice had gone.

Scientia father swallowed. This was not right. He had promised something. He was doing wrong.  
_No matter how much time passes..._  
He opened the mouth and hesitated.  
_…I assure you I’ll be fine…_  
He had two options; stay quiet and come with an excuse, leave things as they were, be wise and stay in an eternal waiting…  
_…but do not speak of this to anyone. Alright?_  
…or surrender to his heart, and prefer the certain answer whether it would kill or save him instead of staying in the torturous doubt.

 

“…I know exactly where he is” Caleo admitted in a whisper. He was so nervous he had started to literally sweat. When his lips reached out to damp his own lips, he felt the skin above his mouth to be covered in a millimetric but noticeable layer of liquid. A million thoughts travelled through his head, and a million concepts did as well, but there were so many he could focus in none. His heart was beating heavy against him, like trying to warn him this was not what he had promised to do. Like telling him this was wrong…but he ignored it, believing hard, trying to believe hard that it was the right thing. 

He looked up and saw Ardyn raising the eyebrows at him, looking not impressed at all.  
“That’s wonderful!” the redhaired said and reached for a paper on the table nearby him, starting to lazily analyze it, smiling. “Why hadn’t you told anyone yet, Caleo?”  
“I…made a…promise…” Caleo continued, nervous. Ardyn did not lift his eyes off the paper he was looking at and made a gesture for the man to take a chair and sit down. Still doubtful on the situation, Caleo reached for the chair and took his time turning it and siting, almost shyly. “…to not say it…but…”  
“A Scientia breaking a promise?” Ardyn questioned, lifting his eyes off the paper to raise his eyebrows at the man. “I thought that was impossible. What’s bringing you to this?”

“…it’s…it’s been three months, mister Ardyn” Caleo started explaining, watching as the man, as carefree as always, reached into drawers to look for things. Apparently, he was following a recipe. Or instructions of a potion. He was not paying attention at all to Scientia father, but the latter continued. “I tried to keep my word up…I tried. I did…I could have…and that way I’d…and they would…but I didn’t” the redhaired didn’t pay attention to the stuttering, still smiling like a feline while going around his workplace as calmly as if he was alone. “…but it’s been three months. Three months without my boy…three months since I…since I left my boy with that…with that…”  
“So he’s accompanied” Ardyn said almost like that was a little triumph, going down in his ankles to look into a drawer.  
“…I failed to save her” Caleo said with a trembling whisper, and the Healer turned to find the man was crying. Ardyn did not question who was ‘her’, more out of disinterest rather than sensibility, and saw the man’s face deforming as he cried silent but strong, too strong sorrow. “…I can’t give him up too…”

“It sounds like quite some troubles” Ardyn said and turned his attention to the paper he was still holding, looking into the drawer a bit more before taking his hand out of it, holding something that looked like a giant tail of a rat.  
“I’ve…ruined his life enough already” Caleo said and started sniffling, his hands trying to stop the tears but not succeeding. “I can’t…leave him alone like this…” he sobbed, “…I can’t…stand this torture, not knowing what’s been of him, not knowing if I’m in a senseless waiting, I…can’t stand living when I’ve taken his youth from him, a-and now also…maybe his life, too…”  
“My…Caleo…” Ardyn whined out with exaggerated pity, leaving some ingredients on the table and turning to look at the man for a couple of moments. “I don’t understand…would you mind being a little more explicit?”  
“…Ignis…gave himself up…in exchange of my life…” Caleo tried to explain but he was terrible in his words. It was his state of tears and sorrow, but he had never had a way with words anyway. The one with the talent had been his wife. And his son. His precious, young son. “…and I thought…that maybe…if I was patient…”

There was silence in which the grey-and-brown haired moved a hand up to clean the mess of his runny nose and watery eyes. He sobbed and felt his heart shrink almost literally.  
“…but it’s been three months” he sobbed. “Three months…I fear to…never see him again…to wait in vain…to stand here doing nothing while my son is…tortured or…or…or already…”  
“Who would do such a thing to young Ignis?” Ardyn asked him, looking at him again to give him wide eyes and raised eyebrows, before turning around to focus on the things on the table. “Tortured or killed. Where is he, Caleo?”  
There was silence. Caleo took some moments to sob and try to clean his face. Ardyn, on his part, was not paying attention to him. He had reached for a small knife that he used to start cutting a bunch of wild leaves in careful but precise slices.

Cut. Cut. Cut. The sound of the knife against the wooden table took a steady rhythm. Cut. Cut. Cut. It was patient but not especially slow, and it echoed in all the hut. Cut. Cut. Cut.  
“He’s…in the castle, guarded by a beast.”  
Cut.  
Sudden silence.

Ardyn’s hand stopped on its own and his entire body froze at the words. His hand had been midways through a slice and had frozen there. There was silence and the redhaired did not move a single inch of his body. His gaze eventually moved up and stared at the wall and into a void. He did not and could not blink. His eyes moved slightly every now and then, his mind totally silent. He spent some moments doing nothing and thinking those words through, a couple memories flashing in his head, a couple other thoughts flying around his mind.  
There was no more smile on his face.  
Some moments later, he turned his body to the other man’s direction and looked at him carefully. He analyzed his face, looked at him with attention.  
“…in the castle?”  
“I know…how it sounds” Caleo said by putting a hand up, having a few troubles breathing and it was not only due to the tears. “…but I swear it’s true.”

“A beast in the castle?” Ardyn questioned him, voice low and serious now in contrast to his previous carefree joy.  
“You _can’t_ tell anyone, mister Izunia, you _can’t_ ” Caleo basically begged as he stood from the chair, trembling, and started approaching the other man. “We can’t tell anyone or it’ll murder my son if it hasn’t done it already, and I can’t allow-”  
“Caleo, mister Scientia, calm down” Ardyn requested, voice still low and serious. He had blinked only out of instinct but he mostly kept the eyes attentive and slightly widened on the man. “What do you mean your son is in the castle?”  
“I…I…was there, I was heading to Northern Insomnia, b-but…I got lost, and I ended up in the castle, and then the furniture came over and told me that- but then I-”

Ardyn felt his heart skip a beat, and he put the hand up in a gesture of asking silence.  
“Caleo, stop, stop” the redhaired called, and the other man obeyed. There was some silence. “…what do you mean the ‘furniture told you’?”  
“…I was in the castle…and it’s not empty, mister Izunia” Caleo explained in an anxious murmur. Ardyn’s eyebrows twitched at that and he felt breathless for a moment. “It’s full of living furniture- they can talk and they move and they have eyes and they-”  
“Talking furniture” Ardyn remarked in a bit of a too harsh voice to not have sounded suspicious, but Caleo did not notice that among his tears and the panic in his head, mistaking it for disbelief.  
“I know, I _know_ how it sounds” Scientia father tried to defend himself when he really did not need to. “But I swear, I swear in the name of the Six, I swear in the name of each of the Six and in the name of my wife and in my own name that I’m not lying or seeing things.”  
“You saw them” Ardyn stated in half a question. Caleo continued to cry, standing in his place, holding his hat and looking too anxious to be normal or healthy, but continuing to explain.

“And there’s a beast, too, and it can talk, and it’s got Ignis prisoner in a cell in a tower” Caleo continued, the tears falling from his eyes without him noticing. “And he made me promise that I wouldn’t say anything about the castle in exchange of not hurting Ignis and set him free someday, but it’s been _three months_ , and I don’t know anymore, I don’t know if I can still wait, I don’t know if Ignis is still alive, I literally don’t know if I’m hopelessly waiting or if he’s alright or anything” the man rushed his words, and Ardyn watched him with the mouth slightly parted and the eyes still slightly wide. “I’ve been _dying_ not knowing if my son is alright or not, I can’t trust in that beast, and I know I promised to keep quiet so long he would not touch my son, but it’s been three months and no one can assure me the beast kept _its_ part of the deal, but I also couldn’t go with the townsguards, and you…” he stopped there for a moment, before he started approaching Ardyn like he was a god appearing to a believer; with desperation. Hopelessly hopeful. Caleo cried rivers while going towards the redhaired, before he literally fell on his knees at his feet and grabbed his coat, looking up at him. “…you, my Healer, you have magic. You can…you can do things nobody else can, and I…and I thought…the beast won’t expect, he doesn’t even need to notice, but I _need your help_ , mister Ardyn, I need your help…”

Ardyn looked down at him still too shocked to have a proper response. His eyes travelled onto the man’s face, his hands close to Caleo but not getting to hold him. The man stayed down on his knees, weak, trembling and looking up at him with the desperation of a man on the edge of death.  
“Ardyn…my Healer…savior of people…” Caleo whimpered at him, pathetic. “You are a generous man…please…have mercy…I can’t stand this pain…I need to save Ignis, to know what’s been of him, but I can’t do it alone, and I can’t tell anyone that isn’t you…”  
The redhaired did not reply. He still looked at the man as if he was speaking an unknown language among his desperation; understanding something was wrong, but not able to say what. Except it was not the case.  
“Caleo…” he called lowly. “Are you…completely _sure_ …that Ignis is in the castle?”  
“I’m sure” Caleo said and put the head down. “I myself was there, in the same cell I last saw him. He’s there. I’m sure.”

There was a bit of silence. Some moments later, Ardyn got a gentle grip of the man by his arm and started pulling him up; Caleo started standing as well, but he was too weak, and felt the redhaired round him slightly by the torso with the other arm, helping him up on his feet. In his arms, Caleo looked pathetically small and fragile in comparison to such a big man. Ardyn held him and basically kept him up on his feet; the man had the head down, basically resting on the healer’s collarbone, and the hands tremblingly holding onto Ardyn’s arms.  
“Caleo” the redhaired whispered, staring down at him. “Describe that beast to me.”  
Scientia father could not look up at him. Weak and already feeling the physical damage and weakness result of his previous outburst, Caleo stood there held by the Healer, trembling.  
“It doesn’t…look like any beast known to men…” he explained. “It’s…tall…huge…and the fur is brown, and…it has fangs and…a scar on the left eye and…”

Ardyn frowned while listening to the list.  
“…I don’t know what it means…” Caleo whispered. “…but the furniture called it…called him ‘Gladiolus’…”  
Ardyn ended up glaring down at the man, who was currently unable to see him. The redhaired looked up from grey and brown hair at nothing at all, thinking. A few moments into it, he felt Caleo moving in his arms, up to stand a bit more on his own weight, and he managed to get a grip of Ardyn’s coat by the chest, almost the collar, and he looked up at the Healer, faces some inches apart.  
“I know…how it sounds…” Caleo whispered to him. “The talking furniture and the beast and everything…but I swear…I swear in the name of everything that exists that I’m not lying…” he shook Ardyn by the clothes. “You _have_ to believe me…”  
“Oh, I believe you” Ardyn whispered back at him with eyes still widened, and he moved a hand up to press it onto Caleo’s head a bit oddly, half the palm on a temple and the rest buried in the man’s hair. “I believe every single word, Caleo…”  
“Please…” the crying man whimpered in a whisper. “Please…you’re a generous man…do something to save my son…”

“I will, Caleo” Ardyn promised, still whispering. “I will take him out of there myself if I need.”  
“Please…” Scientia father continued pleading at him. “Please…”  
“Hush, Caleo…” Healer Izunia whispered at him, and he added some pressure to the fingertips of the hand he had on Scientia’s head. “Hush…”  
“Please…” Caleo let out very weakly and so quietly it was barely heard. He felt Ardyn apply a little more pressure to his head, even though it remained gentle. Caleo’s eyelids started fluttering, and his vision started to fail. His body started untensing, and his mouth kept moving as if trying to say something.  
He passed out, only held in place by Ardyn’s arm around his torso. The healer let go of his head, brushing his hand into the air to get rid of some of his red magic sparkling on his fingertips, even though the movement was not required, and he used both arms to hold Caleo’s dead weight with no troubles.

Ardyn looked at the man some moments before he stared around his hut. He decided to drag the man towards the chair he had previously been at and he sat him there, accommodating him so that he would not slip or fall down, taking his time on the task. Once he made sure Caleo was well on his place, Ardyn turned to look at the table he was working at before. He looked at the paper a last time before folding it and placing it away. He took another paper and patiently scribbled a short note on it, before folding it and saving it in a pocket. He reached for his red scarf only, and he calmly made his way to the door. He exited in silence. 

With the same calm of an everyday, he walked through the city. He stopped a woman that was walking by and charmingly requested something from her, handing her the scribbled note. A messenger now, she presented a little and slightly shy reverence to him, before leaving through the south path towards the outskirts of town with the note in hand. Ardyn watched her leave, smiling, before retaking his previous way. Almost all town had gone to bed already, and there was no one outside by when he reached his destiny. 

He stopped once he was at the border of the town and he took his hat off for a moment. He stared into the distance, easily lost among the pitch-black night.  
Very far in the distance, he could see purple glimpses of what had to be daemons. He smiled to himself and cleaned his hat with a lazy hand, before putting it on again. He gave wide and curious eyes to the path in front of him, the same way a child that’s discovering a cave: needy to explore the inside, eager, impatient, but calm and silent.  
“A beast called Gladiolus” Ardyn said to himself, “and talking furniture.”

In silence, he wrapped the scarf around his neck, taking his time to adjust it on him without looking at anything that was not the path ahead. 

Slowly, he smiled.  
“Oh, I do believe you, Caleo.”

Despite the night filled of terrors, Ardyn Izunia exited through the eastern path with complete calm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can smack me in the face for the cliffhanger, I'm a terrible person.
> 
> It turned out this long from the first two parts regarding the leash issue. They were not expected, but the mental image was amusing and I just went with adding them. Sorry!


	12. The Wizard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't stress looking for who 'Auros' is. He's not in the canon story; I invented it just for that one tiny conversation ahead. I couldn't put Nyx or Crowe in that place, so I had no option but to invent someone. :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The training hall was not the outside, but it was some sort of achievement to Ignis. 

Located at the southern wing, he had almost gone there once by accident, having avoided it by knowing Gladiolus was there. Which only led him to end up in the west wing by accident, and causing all the mess already known of that event. Since then, even though nobody explicitly forbid him or denied him the entrance there, Ignis felt a bit insecure of visiting the hall. He had no idea what Gladiolus did during the day (now he knew that at least part of it had to be spent outside gathering food from the wild to later bring to the pantries, but back then he believed the beast spent the entire day inside), so he did not want to go with the risk of finding him there. Ignis could know how to fight, but it would completely be the beast’s territory if they ended up together in the training hall. Besides, and as senseless as it was, it made him feel like he would end up in the west wing again and…nobody wanted that, him on first place.

So Ignis had not dared to go there during his stay. Until then.

Gladiolus had given him permission to go there and train. Ignis had given a calm but still sarcastic comeback, at which Gladio merely rolled the eyes but, calmly, questioned back if Ignis would rather not accept the chance. Ignis ended up thanking him. They did not exchange thoughts and muses on it, but it was pretty clear to both; the man could not live only out of eating, reading a bit if he ever spotted a book somewhere, and look out the window. The stress of being locked, even if in a place so big, plus the stress of the constant thoughts of his father (even if every passing day they were less intense), and the stress of those ‘abnormally strange’ déjà vu sensations Ignis had at times must have built up in his muscles whether he had noticed or not. He needed more than a hot bath to be healthy on those matters. 

Ignis was used to constant training and work-out. There was no way he was such an experimented and skilled fighter if he did not train daily. To have left his routine was obvious in the sensation of his body, and the non-usual weakness that accompanied him every day. It was not that he was agonizing and could not form a fist anymore; he was in average strength and skills. Which was not _his_ average. The difference between a townsguard and a Glaive trainee was that of an it’s-only-a-time-to-time-hobby violin player to that of a professional one; that he did not practice one day, let alone three months, had made his great progress weaken to ‘normal’ measures when he was used to be an entire staircase above the concept of ‘normal’.

So there it was, his explicit permission to have the training hall to himself if he wanted. Ignis was not dumb, so he, of course, waited for the conditions. Gladiolus would not give him something without conditions.  
He was right. Gladiolus only asked that he did not destroy anything (statement that made Ignis roll the eyes, because there was nothing he could destroy unless he grew superhuman strength and threw down the columns…and, understanding that, he understood Gladio was just making fun of him), that it would not be more than three hours, and that, if he wanted to use a weapon, that would be a wooden and pointless spear ‘that you can pretend is a lance’. Other than that, there was no explicit rules, and Ignis questioned nothing. The conversation was left there and both, like usual as of to this point, formally parted ways without another word.

And that was how Ignis got his permission to train whichever time he wanted, relatively.  
To be sincere, Gladio had felt uncomfortable with the decision at first. He spent a couple days deciding whether it was right or not, and he had to discuss it with Cor, a man that was formerly part of the Crownsguard back in the human days and now a wardrobe, and even with Noctis himself before coming to the decision of allowing the human to retake his training. Gladio had come to believe it could become dangerous; allowing him to train was allowing him to regain his full potential and skills, which could lead into him trying to attack Gladiolus in an attempt to escape. But, on another side, Gladio had seen that Ignis had been in an oddly good mood despite how terribly subtle and implicit it was (and despite his apparent incapability of smiling) after their afternoon of hunting, so perhaps the human could sweat out some of his awful moody attitude and calm down, which would be to Gladio’s vantage (he would save up a lot of angering around).

Cor agreed that it was a way for Ignis to not stress too much, or at least to not bottle up a lot of that, and that it would help him release the bad mood and untense both his physical and metaphorical nerves. Besides, and Cor explicitly doubted it, he did not see many chances for Ignis to attempt an attack; even if he was an excellent fighter who could give troubles to Gladio, the balance was still on the Shield’s favor, and there were many Glaives that, despite their furniture state, could still show themselves to put a stop to an attack of sorts; Cor reminded him of the night of intruders in the castle, and the way Gladio had pinned Ignis to the ground (the mention of the event made the Shield look away and frown slightly, uncomfortable rather than angered). There had been a couple of former Crownsguards and Kingsglaives, now coat racks and shelves, who had managed to put a stop for a good half-a-minute to a fully-beast-mode Gladiolus. That they would not put a proper stop to a human, smaller and less strong than Gladiolus in his current state, was a senseless idea.

Noctis had agreed. Gladio glared at him for two minutes trying to ‘squeeze the truth’ out of him; even if he was a clock and not the human Gladio grew up with, he could still see in Noctis’ painted eyes that devilish gleam that screamed he had more intentions than the ones he spoke about. The clock, however, said nothing other than agreeing with allowing Ignis to use the training hall because it would be healthy. He kept shrugging and saying he had no idea what Gladio was talking about whenever the Shield said “And…?” or “There’s something else you’re not saying, you little ass”. So there was nothing that could be done to make him talk. 

Gladio had come to be convinced that it was not a harmful idea to allow Ignis into the training hall. He could really make use of a less-moody Ignis (because he doubted there was a ‘good mood’ one), and he did not want the guy’s muscles to flatten unhealthily out of the sudden change in their routine. It was clear the man exercised daily, and, like anything else in life, it would be harmful to take it away from him in a snap. It had already been harmful; after all, he did spend three months taken from that, even if he every now and then did some small exercises in his room when he had nothing else to do. But, clearly, a couple push-ups in a bedroom are not the same than having the entire training hall to work-out freely.

Besides, it could help as distraction for two or three days. Ignis was usually pacing around the castle, cooking, cleaning, groaning into a pillow out of boredom and exasperation for having nothing to do (Gladio had accidentally walked in on him like that a couple times, but had decided to say nothing), talking with the furniture, or, very dangerously, poking his nose into the things he found in each room he explored. That had been a harmless activity…until then; Noctis had requested all the papers with his name, his father’s, or any other noble name that was contemporary to Ignis to be taken away and hidden in the throne room (where Ignis had been denied access by Noctis himself), just in case some name or event could ring into Ignis’ head and manage to break the curse, make him remember and untie the mess Noctis feared could happen.

What they did not know was that Ignis’ own name could be and most surely _was_ written in some papers as well.

It had been a mere luck that he had not stumbled upon one of those in all those weeks doing nothing but poke his nose into that stuff, and Gladio was glad of the first two weeks of captivity and the other intermittent weeks and days that Ignis had spent locked in his room and apparently too upset or sad to explore the castle; had he done it daily ever since his arrival, he would have unavoidably found papers with his name in there. And who knew what would happen then.

 

That was the first thing Gladiolus did when they arrived from their afternoon of hunting.  
Once after ordering somebody looked in the stocks to give the man a potion for the headache and general body ache from pushing himself past the healthy, Ignis had parted to his room followed by Luna and Talcott, while the usual trio left with Gladio, curious and not helping the questions despite their also great curiosity on Ignis’ reaction and opinion on the whole situation. They were soon in Gladio’s room, where he had requested much more furniture, formerly servants and attendants of the Citadel, until his room was full to the top of people.  
“I have no doubts anymore” Gladio had started to explain, pacing in small circles at a corner of his room, while all the furniture summoned there stayed quiet. “I had my questions before, but now I’m sure of it, entirely; this man Ignis is not a normal town-boy. He used to be trained by people from the Citadel. Kingsglaives, I dare say.”

There were many murmurs among the crowd. Gladio waited some moments before there was silence enough for him to continue, and people shushed as he spoke.  
“I don’t know who he used to be before the curse, or what was expected of him, but whatever it was, whatever else he was taught or given, he was trained not only by Crownsguards but also by Kingsglaives themselves” he stated. “I took him outside for hunting, an excuse to study his way of battling. It’s rustled and dumb after these weeks of not training, but I didn’t need to see his full skill to see his full potential, contained there” he tried to explain and paused only for a moment. “He doesn’t move like any other commoner. He doesn’t battle like an excellent townsguard; he battles like a Glaive trainee, and I would dare bet he fights like a Glaive in his fully healthy conditions.”  
“But how can you tell?” Iris, sat on a table nearby, asked him. 

“I grew up in here, trained by the best soldiers, trained by my dad himself, Clarus, the Shield of King Regis Lucis” he reminded to both his sister and the people in there, “I can recognize somebody that’s learnt with these people; I myself was trained by them” he continued. “The way he handles his weapon, his way of stalking the prey, the calm way in which he battles like it’s nothing, his instinct of not panicking, that’s not something a normal person would have. Words work of nothing; you’d need to see him to understand. I have and I can say I’m sure of this like I’ve never been of anything else before.”  
“But if he had been trained by Glaives” a broom started arguing from among the crowd, “he would have been here before, and none of us recognized him or knew him from before.”  
There was a large gossip among the people, shared murmurs and whispers all along, agreeing to that, confused. Gladio let them for a moment before breathing and calmly come with his answer.  
“You’re right in that point; I myself would have probably trained him. Yet, I didn’t know him from before either” Gladio admitted. “I have two possible explanations; number one is, the curse affected us in some way like it affected the civilians and we’ve come to forget our relationships with people from outside the castle…which is crossed out, as we have Prompto Argentum, friend to our king Noctis and commoner habitant, who can still recall everything about his life prior to the curse. And number two; he used to be trained in his home.”

There were even more murmurs to that, most of disbelief. The thoughts were shared aloud in the room.  
“But nobody’s trained home!” somebody argued.  
“Unless they have a major reason” another voice argued. “King Regis was very open in that aspect; if somebody couldn’t attend the Citadel very often for training, he would send a Glaive or two to tutor them home until they were prepared to be given the uniform.”  
“But the guy doesn’t look like he’s poor or unhealthy, and he’s too young to have a family of his own, like a baby or a wife or husband” another person argued. “What reasons could he have?”  
“His father.”

Everyone stayed quiet for a few seconds, only interrupted by a couple murmurs from here to there. Gladio watched them in silence after his last statement, and saw them all coming to agree; those that stayed quiet, busy in their heads in understanding it, and those who explicitly nodded or agreed with the idea.  
“If I’m right and he was trained home” Gladio continued explaining, “the reason would obviously be his father. The guy doesn’t have any family other than him, and we all saw the man.”  
“Poor soul” someone in the crowd lamented. “He looked so haggard when he arrived…”  
“He wouldn’t have lasted hadn’t Ignis arrived to take his place so soon” it had been intended as a murmur, but it could be heard across the room. Gladio looked away for a moment, hating the reminder, and decided to not go into that subject.  
“It doesn’t take a genius to know the man’s been sick for years” Gladio said. “It’s a possibility that Ignis was chosen to train as a future Kingsglaive, staying home as he’s the only support for his father, and the treaty happened before he could be given the uniform and title properly.”

“But why are you so sure?” somebody else questioned. “Your possibilities are all pointing one way, isn’t it possible that he’s just a random citizen that happens to be very good at fighting?”  
“It could be” Gladio agreed. “But I’ve seen his acrobatics. And I have not a single doubt; his body language screams ‘Auros’ fully” there were only a few murmurs at the mention of the name of the now passed Glaive. “Nobody did that stuff like Auros did. Had any Glaive come with me, they would have seen him in Ignis’ jumping and rolling. I’m not only sure Ignis was trained by a Kingsglaive, I’m also very sure it was Auros himself. I do would ask the people that knew him to watch Ignis sometime in the training hall; maybe he’ll do some of his movements there, when he thinks he’s in privacy. You’d only need to watch one of his acrobatics to notice. I did.”  
There were a couple of other murmurs, less paranoid than before, mostly of agreement and understanding, and some comments regarding the name previously mentioned.  
“Auros was an excellent Glaive. He’d have been a great captain.”  
“Not a better man to have died in the aid of the King.”  
“I guess facing both the Chancellor and Drautos at once got the most out of him. Even the best soldier has his limits” along a sigh.

They let the comments continue, even the ones not regarding Ignis, but only for a moment. After that, Noctis reached close to Gladio and poked him lightly. The beast understood and kept quiet.  
“Gladio has made an important discovery” Noctis’ voice shadowed those of the people who spoke around. At the sound of their king’s voice everyone went quiet, and some vowed the head in respect. Gladio helped Noctis onto his shoulder to gain some height and be easily seen. The clock stared around some moments waiting for full attention, even though he already had it, and he tried to behave as correctly as he had managed to get out of forcing himself intro growing faster than his age demanded of him. “Whether he’s right or not, the fact that there’s the possibility, for smaller it may be, that the life Ignis had prior to the curse is connected to that of the Citadel and the Glaives, then there is one small detail we all have missed and that’s put us in danger.”

He stayed quiet some moments, as if expecting for people to understand without the need of words. And like the explanation was already given, he skipped to the part of ordering around to fix it.  
“I will require that you help me look in all and every single one of the rooms in the Citadel for any paper that has his name or anything that makes reference to him on it” he stated firmly. “We will search in every room, in every drawer, shelf, in between the pages of books, even in bottles and inside pots and pantries if necessary, in every dusty corner for anything that could be reference of him” he continued. “We cannot allow him to discover he used to have a connection with the Lucis Caelum and their household, for we have no proper answer to give and I will not accept we reveal the truth to him in any moment.”  
Said that, Gladio helped him off his shoulder and onto one of his paws, so the Shield held him ahead, still for everyone to see.  
“We will divide in six sections. Before we arrange them, I have one last warning: we must be subtle as we work. We’re trying to prevent Ignis finds anything about him in the Citadel, the last we want is to see him we’re turning the rooms upside-down clearly looking for something and have to offer explanations.”

People nodded in agreement, and even though there were a few ‘Yes’ and ‘As you order’ along the name ‘Your Majesty’ always at the end of their phrases, there was mostly silence. Noctis had never known too well how to react to such obedience he did not have just a few years ago, but he showed nothing; Cor had told him that it was a good sign that people were willing to subdue as easily to him, and showing insecurity or uncomfortableness would make them insecure themselves.  
“As you know, Prompto, Iris, Luna, Talcott and I tend to spend time with him in his usual exploration” he explained. “It will be weird we vanish as if nothing. We will each take turns to spend some moments with him, take him somewhere specific for a while; as we keep him entertained, four of the six sections, five if given the chance, will work on the search for his information on the places farthest from his position. The one or two sections left, which will be the ones in charge of the zones closest to him, will do nothing; too much noise and activity will call his attention and expose us.”

Gladio smiled while Noctis talked; the kid was a childish mess on a usual life, but when his turn as leader hit, he made a wonderful job. He wondered if he would have come to such a great progress in such little time had the events of the treaty never happened.  
“After each section has done its search, we will switch places; north section goes south and west goes east for a second look, only to make sure we don’t miss anything” Noctis commanded. “We’re starting tomorrow. Before giving instructions on schedules and turns, we’ll first need to arrange the files of each section. I’ll ask you to quietly gather at the library for that; Ignis is in his room being attended for some headache, so I don’t think he’s going to appear in a while. Still, I will send someone to make sure he stays in his room for some moments as we arrange the order of the sections, or to warn us if he decides to come out. Prompto” said that, he turned to look at the candelabra. At first, the golden furniture seemed to be taken off-guard and a bit surprised, but he kept full attention up on his king, “I’ll trust that to you.”  
“Y-yes!” Prompto nervously but firmly nodded, and he waited no further indications to hop off the bed and go straight towards the door.

“The rest of us, to the library” Noctis commanded, and while Prompto hopped his way to the right, the furniture started exiting one by one, as quietly as they could, heading to the left. There was mostly silence and only some murmurs from here to there, and Gladio looked down at his king with a chuckle.  
“You _almost_ sounded like a king for a moment, you know?” Gladio asked him casually but with clear pride in the eyes, low so it was a conversation of only the two. Noctis, however, didn’t turn to look at him. He just smiled cheekily, the head up.  
“And you smell like an idiot” the clock said in return, and the Shield just laughed and carefully stroked the top of Noctis’ head with the middle phalanx of a finger. Noctis complained but smiled a bit while trying to push him away, and Gladio just laughed at him. 

They waited there until all the furniture but Noctis and Iris had exited. Once the three were left alone, Gladio left the clock on the bedside table, and the king smiled while looking away.  
“You know, Gladio, you took quite a while with Specs” Noctis stated with an odd voice, but Gladio just shrugged it off.  
“Yeah, that was pretty long” Iris agreed, hopping her way across the table and onto the bedside one Noctis was on. “I know you said you wanted to ‘study’ him, but that was…” she took a pause and looked at Noctis. “Six hours! Did anything happen?”  
“Nah, we just…got carried away” Gladio said and moved a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, looking slightly away for a moment. “You know, I enjoy hunting, _he_ enjoys hunting, so…”  
“Did he tell you?” Iris asked him, curious.  
“No, but it’s obvious” Gladio said. “I mean, he didn’t smile or said it, but he was so into it, I just didn’t notice how much time passed, that’s all.”

“Six hours, you and Ignis all on your own” Noctis said and chuckled mockingly. “Sounds like a date to me.”  
“You’re a child, Noctis” Gladio said and rolled the eyes.  
“Seriously, though, is he really _that_ good of a fighter?” Iris asked her brother.  
“You should have seen him” Gladio said and, strangely, his voice had gone lower and a bit…softer. A bit brighter, like a major chord. And there was a smile on his face as he spoke. “He’s _amazing_. The way he handled the lance…” he let out a long ‘Pff’ of admiration. “And the way he moves, that’s the best part. He makes fighting look like an art. I could watch him all day.”  
At his words, both Iris and Noctis raised the eyebrows, the latter smiling widely and mockingly. Both gave the surprised look at Gladio, but the Shield either did not notice what he had just said or pretended to not have said it, and continued.  
“He has this…grace. This smooth way of moving…” he tried to explain, his hands gesturing as if trying to catch the proper word but not able to. “It’s amazing. It’s almost ethereal. It’s like…”

By this point, he either noticed what he was saying or only considered to have gone too far, and it was noticeable by the way he stopped and looked away. He paused for a moment only.  
“…so yeah” he cleared his throat. “He’s very good.”  
“Heh, so that’s why you wanted to ‘study’ him” Noctis said with that teasing smile of his, shrugging lightly. “So are you guys friends already or what?”  
“What do you mean ‘already’ like you’re expecting for it to happen at some point?” Gladio asked him with a sarcastic ‘Hah’ after it. “You know me. You think I’d be friends with someone like him?”  
“Well, I’m not the one staring at him and praising his looks and skills every time you find out something new about him” Noctis said with another little shrug. “I don’t know, your constant arguments don’t even sound like arguments at all, you know? It’s kinda like you and I…except with more sass. And cooking issues. And more heat. I get bored three sentences in, but you and Ignis could argue all day, so that’s like extra chemistry.”

For any answer, Gladio offered a little and low laugh along the shake of the head, staring away. Noctis awaited for the reply. It did not come.  
Instead, Gladio offered him his paw so that he could carry the clock to the library where his people waited.

For an odd reason, that Gladio did not fight that conversation made Iris feel something that made her smile.  
Gladio had not been in such a good mood in a while.

\--

Ignis still took a couple days before daring to go to the training hall. Mostly because, at first, he felt awkward. It was a bit dumb to think that the only thing keeping him from it was not fear or insecurity but the awkward. He felt a bit dumb with the idea of entering a place he had not gone before and go back to training after three months and a couple days without a proper chance for it. 

It was in the lapse between their evening of hunting and the day he decided to go to the training hall, almost a complete week, in which Ignis felt the awkward. At first he thought it was due to the strange friendly moment he and Gladiolus had shared over their hours together, most recognizable by the end of their hunting adventure, what kept him feeling a bit dumb. It was a bit senseless to think he and Gladiolus could have bonded some friendship even if only during that evening; after all, their relationship was that of captor and hostage. To grow any liking or bond with him would be both bestiality and irrationality. He could not befriend Gladiolus like man with a dog, for the beast was not an animal and he had already learned that, but he could also not grow any friendly relationship, for they were not together in those kinds of terms. Ignis was, in theory, in a prison.  
In theory, of course. Because, if he was honest, on the practical sense it felt…not so bad.  
He had even grown to be comfortable in the castle.  
But that was a thought he shook off him and decided to not think about if he could help it.

That he had been given explicit permission to use the training hall as he pleased only remarked how strange it was that Gladiolus was behaving ‘nicely’ to him. It was clearly a very formal thing, but there was something in the air between both that was…new. It was the same sensation than the first treatment after Gladio had opened the windows for him, except more noticeable.  
Could they be starting to feel comfortable in each other’s presence?  
Ignis sarcastically smiled at himself at the idiotic thought and rolled the eyes. He came to realize how very stupid that sounded, and he almost even apologized to himself on the mind, and decided to reword his thoughts.  
They were not growing comfortable. They were growing _used_ to each other’s presence.  
After all, he insisted, and insisted and insisted to himself, this was a Captor and Hostage relationship and nothing more, and it would be brutal to see it develop in anything else.  
Impossible, he insisted. And insisted.

And it after he had gotten over that awkward that he felt it, in only one day, the other awkward for a different reason he understood but did nothing about.  
As days went, he had grown to be a bit more confident on soon using the training hall. It was the day prior to it that he felt it, but as the day carried on, he came to shrug it off and believe it was just the furniture that lived all throughout the castle, and perhaps some of which were curious on him and barely approached him. He came to think it could be Gladiolus himself plotting to scare him; it had become some sort of accidental hobby for the beast, in which Ignis would be peacefully strolling through the hallways, and their paths would accidentally cross. Except Ignis was always taken off-guard and he flinched or even stumbled whenever he came to almost walk into the beast; he did not seem scared of the claws or Gladiolus himself anymore, but that something as big appeared from ‘bloody nowhere’, as he said it, tended to startle him. The beast seemed to have found some sort of enjoyment on it, however.

But even after his daily startling happened, the sensation still continued for the rest of the day. Ignis had come to think it could be the usual trio or quartet of friends about to play a prank on him, but that did not seem to be the case either. So Ignis shrugged it off again by blaming it onto that curious, anonymous furniture somewhere he decided to not look for.

Ignis had felt like somebody was staring at him.

\--

Ardyn Izunia arrived at the Citadel the following morning to receiving the news of the unexpected guest of the castle, by foot, on an impossible time record, even though he did not run a single step. Completely unharmed after going into the forests filled of the terrors of daemons like it was but a stroll through the park. Calm and quiet. 

Once he arrived and stood by the outside wall, he approached the main gates with silly, exaggerated strides before stopping at their side. With eyes that could have passed for that of a curious little kid, he bent and took a look of the inside, his gaze coming to scan the castle as if it was not the first time but still trying to find something new. Some moments into it, he took off his bicocket hat with unrequired elegance and kept it in a hand, but never moving his eyes off the building before him. Little time later, he looked down at the main gates, and found them to be sealed with a lock. He found the protection to be silly, but he did not do anything to it either. Closed doors for the normal people, no way inside unless they would find a key that would clearly not be there. 

Ardyn looked at the castle some moments, eyes squinting lightly but a smile on his face nonetheless, as if thinking to himself and having fun on it. A red light gleamed nearby his hand, and had anyone watched him, they would not have been able to explain where he got the sword from, but he was now holding it in a hand. He looked at the inside once again and smiled to himself like a proud feline. He put the hat back on its place.  
Suddenly, there where he had been standing was nothing left but an illusion of him, made out of red, gleaming lines as if though his body had been replaced by an empty drawing of his outlines.  
There was a very thin line of the same red air that connected that unmoving picture of him and went in a long, straight line up to one of the balconies on the fifth floor.  
Ardyn’s figure had been there only for a moment, but it turned again into a mere red drawing.  
The next line connected up to the top of a spire, where his figure had yet again disappeared in another red outlined figure.

The last of the lines led to the ninth floor of a tower. There, Ardyn’s real figure stood at an unprotected window he could easily enter from. He looked down at the room he was in, and smiled when he found himself into the ancient jails to have had no use in the previous thousand years. With the throw of his sword and a warp to catch it before it landed, the Healer safely landed on the ground, a jump nobody would manage from the height of the window to the floor but was no troubles to a person with the ability to warp.

The Wizard was now inside the Citadel.

He, shamelessly and not trying to be subtle, looked into every cell as if prepared to say Hello in any moment. When he reached the end of the hallway and found all to be empty, he returned to the one that differed in only one thing. He found the door open so he calmly made his way inside, steps slow like this was an everyday thing. He reached down for the piece of cloth on the floor and picked it up with both hands to examine it. It was ripped and dirty, but there was no blood on it. He brought it closer to his face and inhaled softly but remarkably into it. He put it away and smiled.  
So Caleo really had been there…and, apparently, none him or his son had found it necessary to take the rests of his cape with themselves.  
Ardyn smiled and felt some tickles on his fingertips, even though they clearly did not come from his magic. He decided to take the piece of ripped cloth with himself, just in case, and he exited the cell.  
Caleo had sworn Ignis was trapped in a cell ‘in a tower’, so Ardyn had thought the kid…or young man, Ardyn remembered, could have been in this one, the only with cells, but he had found nothing. 

He threw his sword up at the window once more, and his figure vanished in more of that red magic in less than a blink.  
Using his abilities to warp, Ardyn rounded the castle by the outside in fleeting glimpses, like a blazing comet quickly hopping from here to there, until he found a way to the inside again through a window that he did not even need to open to pass by with his warping abilities. He was in a more habituated zone, so while there was nobody around, there could be much greater chances of somebody walking on in him than there were in the abandoned prison tower. Desiring to not take many risks, he continued warping until he reached the stairs that led to the dungeons.  
He found them to be as lonely, the three levels. Three entire floors underground, three huge floors that had nothing but empty prison cells, spider webs, rats and dust enough to suffocate an entire army. 

Confused, Ardyn made a second check, this time trying to find any piece of raw human meat or stains of blood. But there was nothing.  
_’He made me promise that I wouldn’t say anything about the castle in exchange of not hurting Ignis and set him free someday’._  
It was clear that Scientia son had not returned home, and he had nowhere else to go. So he had to be in the castle, but he was not in the prison tower, and he was not in the dungeons. The only option left was that he…could be freely roaming through the Citadel. He was too smart to be locked in a bedroom.  
Ardyn frowned at the idea, suddenly not having much fun on his search. He knew that the Amicitia were men of word…that was why he had not expected Gladiolus to keep his own about this; he was not a man anymore. But Ardyn could be mistaken. Maybe Gladiolus could be reining the beast in much, much better than he expected the Shield could do. Enough to not have murdered the human yet; enough to not have kept him locked. Enough to still feel mercy.  
Which was dangerous. For Ardyn.

Hurrying but not running, Ardyn made his way upstairs again to exit the dungeons. He found it unnecessarily dangerous to walk through the hallways; he could do it with a spell to stop time as he desired and not be noticed…if only the current king was not around, for he would notice.  
Ardyn planned to appear again at some point, but this was too early and unexpected; he could not let Noctis know he was still alive and this close. Not yet.  
The king would figure out that, if the Wizard had appeared again, then it was possible that Ignis could or not be the key of breaking the curse, and that was something Ardyn could not allow Noctis to understand. He gave them not a single hint, he would not risk the entire plan by giving them one. 

So he had no option but to warp back outside the castle. Once on the outside walls and making sure nobody was watching from the inside, avoiding to pass in front of windows and open hallways, he started making his way upstairs, floor by floor. He started warping from north to south, eastern to west, in all directions looking for the man, peaking into every window, into every room. He saw the furniture, walking by, talking, living and growing extremely bored. He spotted the beast disappearing behind a hallway, but the human was not there. Speedy and cautious, Ardyn continued warping from tower to windowsills for many minutes more.  
And then he found the human.

Sat at the edge of a balcony, a leg swinging on the outside and the back resting against the wall, the only human of the castle read a book dangerously sat on the stone border six floors up like it was nothing. Ardyn watched him from afar with those curious kid-like eyes, a hand on his hat for it to not fly away with the gusts of wind.  
The first thing he thought and made him uncomfortable was that the young man was very attractive. The features of his face, the stylish haircut, and the strong, muscular but very slender body…everything screamed Beauty.  
One did not need to be young to admit it. The young man held a human beauty that could be canonically accepted in any moment of history, at least in the past two thousand years. He could not be perfect, but there was a beauty to him nobody could deny. 

He wore clean clothes. They clearly did not belong to the once prince (Noctis had been too small for Ignis’ height), nor the king, nor any Council member. But the point was not on how fine the clothing was, but rather on the mere fact that it was clean and fitted him well. If he was a prisoner, there would be no reason for him to be this presentable. And he was sat there, reading a book, completely calm and relaxed in his everyday activity. Like he was used to it.  
Ardyn hid behind the bricks of the tower he was hanging from when Ignis turned to look his way. He waited many moments in which he only furrowed the eyebrows; nobody would have noticed. The guy either had had luck and it had been a coincidence he turned his way, or he was extremely perceptive…like no normal person was.  
The Wizard warped somewhere else and waited on a roof, down on his ankles like imitating a gargoyle, and decided to look a bit more closely at Ignis for the rest of the day.

He followed him around across the hours, always making sure to hide before Ignis could turn his way. The human seemed to have gotten tired of looking for his presence by midday and had stopped looking for the source of whatever was staring at him, maybe thinking he was just imagining things, and lived his day unaware of the Wizard following him from nearby. Sometimes too nearby. Sometimes on the hallway at a side.  
At his own room, at night, while slept, too. Standing at the very side of the bed. But that was later when night hit.  
During the day, Ardyn was not sure if he had to be worried or not when he realized it was a boring thing; Ignis had a normal life in the Citadel. He spent the day walking around, cleaning something, groaning into a pillow out of exasperation from the boredom, talking with some furniture, or reading something. 

Once or twice, Ardyn saw him passing by the beast…and ignoring him completely. Gladiolus did nothing to call his attention either. They would sometimes cross ways, each heading a different way, and not say anything. This had been what worried Ardyn the most on his way there, the interaction between the two, and he found it to be…none?  
He, however, continued watching upon them for the rest of the day, trying to see the way they behaved in front of each other, waiting for more interactions between them.  
What he found was neither worrying nor pleasant  
The first interaction he saw between the two had been an accident. From the position he took, he could see the two hallways; Ignis was walking through one and Gladio through the other, and both would end up colliding at some point, since both were oblivious to the other’s presence. Ardyn watched with interest, expecting for the beast to be startled, get angered and maybe scare the human off; if Ignis ignored him, there was a chance he was or used to be mistreated by Gladiolus and wanted to be away of him.

Both continued walking until they reached the end of their respective hallways, where they unexpectedly met. Ignis was the one to let out small gasp of surprise and take a step back along a flinch.  
Gladiolus, unlike what Ardyn had expected from him, actually _laughed_. The Wizard furrowed the eyebrows and watched with attention as the scene continued.  
The beast laughed shortly but clearly amused, and Ignis only stared away, frowning.  
“Still getting scared, huh?” Gladio teased him with a silly grin and half-closed eyes. The human crossed the arms and kept staring away, in embarrassment.  
“I don’t get ‘scared’, Gladiolus” Ignis stated, frowning. “I only get startled.”  
“That’s what you youngsters call it now, to ‘get startled’?” Gladio continued making fun of him, and the human felt the face becoming red, but his cheeks did not betray him and did not color enough to be noticeable. 

“It _is_ startling” Ignis defended himself. “It’s not fear. It’s the surprise element; I was taken off-guard, that’s it. Had it been you or anything else, I would have reacted; it’s the surprise, not the object itself.”  
“Nah” Gladio chuckled down at him. “You’re scared.”  
“I am not…!” Ignis interrupted himself before finishing the sentence, frowning more and starting to argue, but he decided not to; he felt like a child in tantrum. He looked away again, arms crossed. “You too would be startled if I walked up on you as unexpectedly.”  
“This was unexpected for me, too” Gladio stated, “and I didn’t ‘get startled’.”  
“I already told you, you make a terrible job at trying to make a decent impression of my voice” Ignis argued back like that was the main subject

Gladio laughed again and waved a wrist in a bored flick while continuing walking past the human, leaving him behind.  
“Whatever, Kitchen Prince” the beast said. “Be careful when reaching corners, there may be terrible beasts hidden there.”  
Ignis rolled the eyes and stood still on his place, turning only enough to look slightly above his shoulder as the beast left. Talcott, the tea cup, stood on one of Ignis’ shoulders ever since the man had gone on exploration, and Ignis thanked to have someone to talk with in those moments.  
“He’s doing it on purpose” the human stated. Ardyn, still up on the window, heard him despite the low voice.  
“Really?” Talcott asked him. “That’s so mean from him. Do you want us to talk with him about it, mister Ignis?”  
“No” Ignis shook the head. He squinted the eyes into a glare that sunk into the beast’s back, his figure growing smaller as he continued going in the hallway. “I personally will get him back. You’ll see.”

Talcott was not sure how to interpret it, but he watched Ignis as he glared at Gladiolus, before the beast disappeared into another hallway. Ignis sighed and continued his own way, saying nothing.  
Ardyn did not know what to think about this all. 

He continued watching them across the day, and while there was very little interaction between the two, he managed to eavesdrop on different conversations among the furniture. He was not sure if he understood correctly, but it seemed to be that Gladiolus had taken Ignis to the outside fields for hunting. Some others spoke about some papers they were looking for. A topic that called Ardyn’s attention was about something he did not get full information about, but it seemed like the castle had been visited by random strangers at some point. Somebody spoke about the open windows.  
On his peak into the daily life of the castle, Ardyn inevitably saw the Lucis king, even if from afar. He smiled and glared when he saw the dumb clock from the distance, but could not give himself the pleasure of watching him for too long; while Noctis, in his current state, was unable to use his magic, it still ran inside him, and he was sensible to the presence of it. If Ardyn stayed around him for too long, the king would notice.  
He saw Lady Lunafreya, and saw Cor the Immortal. They offered close to no important information. But her sight made him remember about the note he wrote the previous night, and wondered how the receptor would have reacted.

By the time night hit, Ardyn saw a thing that he had not even thought a possibility.  
With a going that screamed this was an ordinary and very common thing for him, Ignis reached inside the kitchen like he had lived there all his life and started giving soft orders from left to right for the furniture to bring him certain ingredients and tools. Gladiolus appeared from another door, bringing a bag with raw meat inside.  
“See, I told you all the meat was useful” the beast said casually, while Ignis took off his gloves, not looking at him. “You just had to stop being so picky.”  
“I enjoy my food well served” Ignis stated, and reached close to the sink to wash his hands while Gladio put the bag onto a counter. “…but I do have to admit…it’s useful even as badly cut as this is.”  
“There’s no wrong way to cut meat” Gladio complained, but Ignis just ignored the comment. “Anything else you need?”

“Not for now” Ignis softly shook the head and checked in a drawer for a knife. “How are we doing on supplies?”  
“Still meat for quite a while” Gladiolus shrugged. “But a bit low on spices. Don’t worry, I’ll go look for more tomorrow before you have a heart attack.”  
“That sounds pleasant to me” Ignis said and reached to a close hook where an apron hung from, but he did not put it on. He looked at the beast with a blank but soft expression. “I have all I need. Thank you.”  
“I’m leaving” Gladio said, understanding the petition, and realizing he was not needed anymore. “Have fun, Sass Prince.”  
“I do am grateful you got my gender right this time, thank you very much” Ignis stated calmly. The beast, at his words, chuckled and looked back at him some moments. 

Without any further arguing, Gladiolus exited to the dining room, and exited that room to, resting his back to the wall and crossing the arms. He stayed with the tea cup his sister turned into, and talked with her about dinner and other things. Ardyn watched with curiosity, the beast on the outside, and the human inside…cooking. Interested and a bit taken off-guard by such action, Ardyn titled the head lightly to a side while, from his spot, he watched the young man putting the apron on, carefully, and starting to prepare the meat and the required spices at hand. Ignis, like the Wizard had seen and learned across the day, had a soft and graceful way of doing things. Cooking was not the exception; the way he handled the knife, it was almost like a painter and their brush, and not a cook with a sharp utensil made for cutting and ripping. 

It almost looked…motherly. It felt domestic-like. A domestic life.  
Ardyn frowned slightly while keeping the eyes on the man, not helping but notice that Ignis was really not a prisoner. He was not cooking under command; it was clear he was doing it on free will. He did not look upset; if anything, only a bit melancholic, but he was not forced to this. Gladiolus, on his part, was respecting his space and let him be. Ardyn watched Ignis serve two dishes, the two as carefully done. He called for Gladiolus, and he personally handed him his bowl, from hand to paw. The Wizard had thought they both would sit at the table, but it turned out that only the beast did, while Ignis left to another room.  
At least that was something. 

The Wizard watched them as each finished their dinner at their respective pace, left the dishes at the sink. They crossed paths again; Gladio thanked the man for the dinner, without looking at him, and not adding emphasis on anything. Like a brother thanking his sibling for the food; casually, out of formality, so used to it that the words did not even have a meaning anymore other than etiquette. Ignis offered no reaction, confirming this was just an ordinary thing and nothing to be impressed about, waving bye and parting to his own direction. Both went upstairs side by side, in silence, and parted each to a side.  
That was the last interaction between the two.

Ardyn, confused, checked up on the beast. Gladiolus had very little to say about the human, very little he shared with the furniture, before he, like all life, buried the nose in a book until leaving it at a side to get some sleep. With him offering nothing more, the Wizard left to Ignis’ room, on the sixth floor.  
By the time he arrived, everyone had gone to sleep already. He had waited some moments at a nearby roof, but was now standing at the windowsill of Ignis room.  
And he made his way in, hoping for no furniture to notice his way of sneaking inside, but he came to realize Ignis was entirely alone; all the furniture of his room was unanimated. Ardyn, more confident at the realization, looked around with a tiny smile. _’How comfortable’_ he thought while looking around the place, and then turned his attention to the young man.  
Ignis lied in bed, under the sheets, calm like he was in his own bed.  
It _was_ his own bed, after all.

The redhaired man took off his hat and kept it in a hand while pacing around the room, quietly. He found that it had its own private bathroom, as big as the room itself. It had decorations, enough furniture, a wardrobe full to the top, and everything was reluctant clean. While pacing around the room, he found Ignis shifting in his sleep and opening the eyes quickly; for his luck, Ardyn was not on his sight range and he was very quick reacting. As soon as the human was about to wake up, the Wizard put some fingertips to his forehead, and a few dots of red magic sparkled under them and against the man’s skin. Ignis quickly, very quickly drifted back to sleep half a second after he had started to wake up, the head turned towards the Wizard but not having managed to have seen him. 

Ardyn lifted the eyebrows; a light sleeper, he realized. Whether it was out of paranoia for feeling insecure living in the same place than the beast or if he had always been a light sleeper, he did not know. He looked at Ignis a little more, dead asleep and not helping it. He found amusing that he had just used the same spell on him than he had to do with Scientia father the previous night. It was like this family was a mess when awake. The only solution was to shut them like this, he believed for a moment. 

After some moments, Ardyn reached closer and took Ignis by the jaw with a hand, making him turn a little more for the Wizard’s eyes to start analyzing him. He smiled while watching him; the full lower lip, very, very slightly parted from the upper one, as soft-looking as its partner. The clean face, the smooth features. His naturally well-groomed eyebrows, made of such a good trace it was ridiculous they were natural, and yet they were. Precise, fine, but remaining manly. He watched his softly closed eyes, too. The pretty eyelids. The long, girly eyelashes that almost rested against the top of his cheeks. Ardyn let go of his chin and moved the fingers up his face until reaching his hair, resting down onto his forehead, and removed a few locks almost with care. He caressed the left side of his face before gripping his cheeks with that one hand alone. He made a pouty-kissy face of mockery at him, before very, very lowly laughing to himself while letting go of the man.  
_He’s certainly handsome, isn’t he?_ Ardyn thought to himself while looking at him, taking quiet steps backwards to the window without taking his eyes off the sleeping man. _The kind of young man for another one to fall in love with._

How easy it would be. He caught the man off guard and had him unconscious in front of him. As simple as a magic touch, the use of a knife, the summoning of a sword, the mere touch of fire on his face or his throat, something as simple, as easy. Ignis lied there, exposed, vulnerable, completely unprotected. Sleeping. Offered in a golden tray to Ardyn to do as he pleased. The Wizard could make it quick and clean; Ignis would not even have time to make a single sound or notice before he could come to die in that bed. Ardyn would then only need to carry his body back to Northern Insomnia, show him to Caleo, apologize for how his magic stopped the beast but could not save Ignis. See Caleo cry to the body until dying of literal heartbreak on his son’s corpse. Two birds down with one stone. Those that knew too much, silenced.  
_So easy._

Ardyn smiled at him a last time before turning around.  
“It was a pleasure, young mister Ignis Scientia” Ardyn whispered and climbed onto the inner windowsill, designed as a comfortable place to sit at on evenings to stare outside the window. He said the name like it was the first time he said it, tasting each syllable, feeling every letter on the tongue, wanting to make emphasis on every sound that composed it, feeling how now he had learned the real meaning behind the name. “I hope you give me no reasons to return.”

Said that, he put his bycocket back on, gave a last look at Ignis, and his body turned into a red illusion, connected to a line that led to the outside of the castle. 

Ignis sighed calm in dreams, unable to wake up for the rest of the night.  
Ardyn, on his part, calmly started walking back to Northern Insomnia.  
Somebody expected him home.

\--

“When you sent me that urgent note asking me to ‘take care of the man in your hut’, I thought you meant as in slaying a potential danger. Instead, I ended up carrying an old man to his bed, like a babysitter.”

Ardyn smiled while taking off his hat, gently tossing it onto the table. He had not needed to see him to know he would be there when he got back, so it did not surprise him to have walked into his hut with somebody already inside. The Healer had not even greeted or done any motion of having noticed him, but the young man had still spoken after some moments, those previous words.  
“How embarrassing it must be for you” Ardyn replied while turning to face him, smiling widely with an odd, maybe even malicious look in the eyes. “To have been degraded from a healer’s assistant to a nurse.” Ardyn kept smiling at the younger man standing by the door, lowering the chin very slightly for his devilish expression to get a little more emphasis. “Considering the assistant title was already degrading…for one that used to be prince, of course. Isn’t it?”

The man standing by the door offered no answer. His usual expression was that of the slight beginning of a frown; after the comment, it did but deepen slightly and become a little more notorious, but only for a moment. There was some silence in which Ardyn only offered him a little smile again before turning to calmly start taking off his scarf, like a man just arriving from a journey. Which was not at all a lie.  
“What did you do to that man and why was it important that I attended him?”  
“Now, now, don’t you see I’m just arriving after a long, tedious walk?” Ardyn asked and it sounded as fake as mocking. The other man only kept the serious, upset look on him. “Don’t be so impatient, Ravus.”

The once prince of Tenebrae did not move or reacted at all, and if there was any thought or reaction inside him, there were no signs of it anywhere on his body, not even in his eyes, neither in the blue one nor the purple one. He stood on the same place, tall, the back straight, the standing of a nobleman. Of a prince. He waited in silence, though not precisely in patience, watching Ardyn take off his mantle and toss it at a side as well. The Healer, however, kept the coat on and he turned. He clearly did not seem to be tired of any journey. Ravus blinked only once before he broke the silence again.  
“Where did you go?” he asked calmly.  
“To the Citadel, would you believe it?” Ardyn asked him. At the words, the prince tensed, very subtly but not enough to go unseen by the redhaired, who smiled. 

There was an uncomfortable silence. Ravus was not one for speaking, and the fact that Ardyn was not giving him more information despite knowing so made it clear that he was testing how much the silver haired could wait before opening the mouth.  
“…what for?” Ravus asked cautiously, the voice low. Ardyn shrugged, pacing slow and flamboyant towards a nearby chair.  
“It seems like we have an…unexpected guest in there” the redhaired said and turned the chair with unnecessary pomposity, only to sit on it in a way that he could rest the arms on the back of it. “How is our old man Scientia doing?”

There was silence. Ardyn toyed a little with his gloves and sleeves, smiling, before looking up at Ravus and lifting an eyebrow at him. He had asked on purpose, and he could see that, now, Ravus was understanding how everything connected from the little he had managed to gather.  
“Fine” he stated, calm. “He woke up by midday. He’s in a terrible state, but apparently nothing out of the ordinary, according to his own words.”  
Ardyn nodded and offered no reply. The silver haired still waited some moments to see if anything was said, but as not, he decided to take the first step again.  
“How is Ignis’ presence in the castle of any harm?”  
“Oh? I had no idea you were friends with him” Ardyn said mockingly. The prince offered no reply; sarcasm would not work on him. The redhaired merely laughed under his breath at the sight. “Are you worried about him?”

“I am concerned on how his presence there affects the situation” Ravus stated. “You would not have gone to review the status of the Citadel wasn’t he a threat or a key for a major something. You’ll tell me what it is.”  
“Will I? Satisfying” Ardyn replied, a finger lazily toying with the chair. He took some moments before breathing in, calm. “Before I tell you, _you_ will tell me what you learned about this ‘Ignis Scientia’ boy while I was away, okay?”  
It was not an invitation or a request.

Ravus’ heterochromatic eyes stayed fixed on Ardyn, his face unmoving and cold like usual. Some moments into it, he contained a small sigh in the chest.  
“Ignis Scientia, only son of Caleo, the youngest of the two Scientia brothers” Ravus started informing. “Twenty-two, middle and high school teacher at the local academy; history, mathematics on advanced levels, physics, geography, basic levels of astronomy, substitute of the chemistry teacher, substitute of the physical education teacher, academic and thesis reviewer. He has two degrees and a doctorate. Genius child, I.Q. for above the average.”  
“Fascinating” Ardyn said and, while the comment kept it clear he was not interested in precisely that, he was not lying or being sarcastic at all.  
“He makes a living out of that and by hunting both beasts and daemons in nearby areas” the silver-haired continued. “Apparently, he’s the best in town, surpassing the abilities of the famous Captain Highwind. For the little I’ve seen, he has the abilities of a Lucian Glaive, but I ignore where his knowledge of battling comes from.”  
“Yet, his focus is…teaching” Ardyn said and it was not a question. 

The once prince nodded, calm.  
“He’s in charge of aiding his uncle, Major Scientia, on paperwork. Most of his day goes on paperwork and administrating.”  
“He’s a secretary type?”  
“No; second-hand type” Ravus corrected. The redhaired nodded slowly in understanding. Both stayed quiet some moments.  
“What does he do in his free time?” Ardyn asked him, looking up from the chair up at the blue and purple eyes.  
“I believe he has none.”

At the statement, Ardyn lifted the eyebrows, almost in surprise, and with the question clear in the eyes. Ravus blinked only once before continuing.  
“It seems like his work at a side of his uncle takes most of his time; the little that is left must be spent home, if I understood correctly” Ravus tried to explain. “He’s not paid by the government for his work there, and Caleo earns too little from his own teaching, so Ignis has to attend all his classes and provide more by hunting if required.”  
“Not paid by his government work, and yet the major is absolute trash without him” Ardyn commented and chuckled with some sarcasm. “Tell me, Ravus…do you remember anything about him?”

There was some silence.  
“Why would I?” Ravus asked bitterly. “I am not a Lucian. I visited Lucis very few times, and only counted of them were spent among the people. Even if I had known him before the curse, I wouldn’t remember; he’d have had been only one in among the crowd.”  
“Really?” Ardyn asked him with a small smile. “He does seem…outstanding.”  
“Explain yourself” Ravus commanded, even though the voice stayed calm. The Wizard gave him a little playful smile again, tilting the head slightly to a side, and starting to toy only for a few seconds with a lock of his hair.  
“Didn’t you know?” he smirked at Ravus. “Ignis is a _very_ handsome man.”

Ravus did not reply. There was no sound for some moments.  
“Did you know, Ravus?”  
“I am aware he is a good-looking man, but I have spoken to him only once or twice, and it was regarding nothing of importance” the once prince accepted. The look and voice Ardyn was offering kept something clear that Ravus knew he could not escape from, so he merely spoke. “I had believed him dead. Not in the Citadel. How does that affect any of this?”  
“So you _have_ treated him before” Ardyn stated with a smile. Ravus could do nothing but stay quiet, and that was all answer required. “What is he like, Ravus?”  
“I treated him too little to have a full sight of his personality.”  
“Then, that’s why I gave you that note with that task while I was gone today” Ardyn said like trying to explain something to a kid, but without exaggerating. The prince stayed quiet and the redhaired looked at him again. “I asked you investigated about him. So? What does the people have to say about him? What is he like?”

Ravus looked at him in silence. He tried to understand what this all meant, how things connected. It had been easy to understand where Ignis was and how Ardyn knew, but it still did not end making sense on why it was important enough for the Wizard to go check himself. Something worried the Wizard and Ravus could not tell why; so far, the redhaired only kept asking things about Ignis’ personal life and looks. How did that have any to do with the Citadel or the curse?  
“So?”  
“Ignis is a constant gossip matter around town, a thousand times more now that he’s gone missing” Ravus started. “Apparently, he’s a paranoid mess that exaggerates on the care he offers to his father; a wreck of nerves who sleeps 3 hours per day and spends the rest overworking to exhaustion with no time for other people” he said as if quoting. “From what I gathered, Ignis is a cold, uptight, irritating and very odd guy that has no sense of humor and with about no social abilities or relationships. That is, if we exclude his only friends, Cindy Aurum, the woman of the workshop, and Aranea Highwind, the townsguards Captain.”

Whatever he had said, it seemed to have been of Ardyn’s interest. The redhaired offered no sarcastic smile or look this time. He nodded very slowly and looked away, thinking to himself. Ravus gave him the time he needed of, waiting in silence.  
“…what is his relationship status?” Ardyn asked him, low but not enough to become a murmur.  
“Who cares?” Ravus asked. “How does that have any to do with the curse or the Citadel?”  
“What is his relationship status, Ravus?” Ardyn asked him again, calm. The prince stayed quiet and contained the urge of growling at him. Instead, his frown only deepened very subtly once more.  
“Single” Ravus said simply.  
“And what is his orientation?” Ardyn asked him. “What does he like? Women, men, both, none, any?”

“From what Caleo said…” Ravus started saying after having to look away, frowning not in anger but rather thoughtfully, going into his memory to see if he could gather something together. “…I really am not sure. His father says that is of no importance, and that if Ignis has yet not married or laid interest in anyone, that is up to no one but him to care about.”  
Ardyn rolled slightly the eyes, smiling and nodding slowly, not much in understanding but rather in some sarcastic motion.  
“…rumors it town, however” Ravus said, a bit lower, “has it that he is, mostly for sure…completely frigid.”  
“Frigid?” Ardyn asked him, too interested in the matter for Ravus to fully comprehend, but he continued anyway.  
“Out of his behavior, rumors have it he may be interested in nothing regarding the romantic matter” Ravus explained. “Not sexually, not romantically, nothing. Apparently, he has had many offers of relationships, one or two offers of marriage, and many people have tried to court him. And not only did they all fail; from what I gathered, Ignis did not even _notice_ what they were trying to do. He’s inexpert and completely uninterested.”

Ardyn smiled at that and his eyes went down. Ravus had never seen him as thoughtful as in those moments, and he still could not quite grasp the reason. He stood there, quiet, until the Wizard looked up at him again.  
“So he has never had any relationship nor has he ever shown any interest for anyone?” Ardyn questioned, both interested and in some sort of slight disbelief. “Ever?”  
None said anything afterwards. Ardyn’s eyes looked at Ravus for many moments, and when he found the prince to not move a single inch or respond to the question, he scanned him a little, his long white overcoat, his boots, and back up at his face, expecting anything from him.  
“Ravus?” Ardyn called. “If you know anything, you tell me.”  
“He used to date the townsguards Captain, Aranea” Ravus said after a few moments more, careful and unsure of how the information he was revealing could affect. “He was nineteen, almost twenty at the time.”

“Why didn’t things…work?” Ardyn asked, and Ravus looked away at the question; he had expected to hold a meeting on important issues, war matters, something serious, and instead he ended up in this hut sharing romantic stories and gossip with a man he did not even like. He felt somewhat humiliated.  
“That, I did not ask” Ravus admitted, a bit angered. “The only thing I can recall is from a year or so ago, Aranea saying Ignis had been confused at the time, too shy to say No to her offer, and that when she understood it she asked him for the break-up; didn’t want to force him to anything, she said. But they ended in good terms. They stayed good friends afterwards. They still are.”  
“So that’s why our dear Captain vanished, hm?” Ardyn asked with a sly smile. “To look for her beloved Ignis…” Ardyn’s smile grew wider. “That could be very…very useful at some point…”  
“Was she in the Citadel as well?” Ravus asked. 

“Most possibly” Ardyn said and stood from the chair. Ravus watched him as the man took it to another spot while he spoke. “So the guy is a ridiculously handsome young man, a year younger than our Amicitia Shield, and, despite his beauty, is frigid and entirely uninterested in any sort of romances.”  
“That, we don’t know” Ravus corrected. “That’s the town’s gossip.”  
“Tell me, Ravus” Ardyn started asking him; “If you were a frigid man to have lived twenty-two years completely uninterested in any sort of romantic relationship, what would someone have to do to open your heart and arrow it?”  
The question seemed to have taken the prince off-guard for a moment, since he did not reply and frowned by not understanding. He looked at Ardyn as if expecting him to take back what he had just said, or laugh, or anything, but the Wizard kept staring at him, waiting. Ravus sighed and frowned more, looking away.  
“I ignore it” he stated, but he knew he had to offer more of an answer or Ravus himself would get none. “I guess the other person would have to be extremely patient with me. Understand I worship my personal space and would murder them if they invade it. I would want them to be quiet and reserved like myself, share my artistic tastes, and be quiet. I believe the courting process would have to be a slow approaching. Very slow. Could take years before I could really open the heart to them.”

“Couldn’t have asked someone better than you about these issues, right?” Ardyn asked him with a childish grin while sitting down at the chair in the new spot he put it at, and Ravus merely widened the eyes very slightly at him for a moment, coming to understand, and then stared away, clearly upset. The redhaired laughed lowly and rested a foot on the table at a side. “Do you think he’s Amicitia’s type of interest?”  
“I ignore it, I will not investigate, and I most certainly don’t _care_ ” Ravus finally snapped out at him, speaking a bit louder but not enough to be screaming. Ardyn looked at him with the smile gone, but he did not seem scared nor taken off-guard. “Why is that anything of importance? Why did it scare you enough to go check the situation? I’ve told you what I know, now you tell me what _you_ know and are not telling me.”  
“Now, no need to become aggressive, young prince” Ardyn said and moved the other foot up, crossing the ankles and leaning back onto the chair, carefree and relaxed. “I was about to explain.”

Ravus kept frowning at him, never once putting the guard down. The Wizard did not mind; that was the way the prince had always behaved towards him. Untrusty, even insecure. He was not foolish, and Ardyn liked that. After a little smile, he leaned the head back to rest against the chair and closed the eyes, as if about to take a nap.  
“Long story short, young man Ignis ended up ‘prisoner’ in the Citadel” Ardyn started explaining to him. “I guess Amicitia was too stupid to kill him when he had the chance, and decided to lock him for finding out our dirty little secret regarding the Lucis Caelum and company.”  
Ravus could not help but move the eyes down for a moment, clearly tense even when his shoulders dropped slightly. Again, it did not go unseen by the Wizard, who smirked while the man was not watching him, then pretended to be looking away.  
“I believe I never told you the key to breaking the curse set upon the Lucian castle, did I, Ravus?”

At the words, the once prince looked back up at him, completely quiet. His eyes showed interest, and the wizard knew it. He stayed quiet more moments, enjoying of the attention. He toyed in a hand with a little stick he took from the table, completely carefree and even seeming bored.  
“The curse set upon both the kingdom and the castle, and the one affecting all the poor souls turned into furniture, and the one set on that of the Amicitia young son, will break when sincere words of true love are given on free will by a chaste or virgin soul to the person turned into beast.”  
There was silence after these words. None said anything, and the only one moving was Ardyn, flipping the little stick he found. The prince was lost in thoughts, which the Wizard came to interrupt.  
“Now, don’t get any foolish ideas, Ravus” Ardyn said and put the stick to a side, back on the table. “If you go and open your mouth to them, and supposing it works and you all manage for young Ignis to fall in love with Gladiolus, and the curse breaks, you will recover your sister…but we’ll also recover Noctis and company, and we don’t want that.”

Ravus did not say anything. He waited for more arguments.  
“We stablished you’d help me keep the secret and aid me around for all the years the rose would stand, in exchange for me to save your sister in the last moment before the rest turn fully into lifeless furniture” Ardyn reminded him. “So going to them and reveal the truth could lead them to trick Ignis into falling in love with him, hence breaking the curse. If that happens, I will be left with no option but to go and slaughter them all” he said and turned to look at Ravus again, nodding very slightly and subtly at him. “Lady Lunafreya included.”  
The once prince tensed.  
“So you have no reasons to go do something as foolish, do you?” the redhaired asked almost as if innocently.  
“The threat was not necessary” Ravus muttered at him. “I do not wish to save Lucis Caelum or any of his allies, even if I could. He can rot as a clock and die like that. I only want to recover my sister.”  
“Pretty vengeful, are we?” Ardyn asked him, but, like usual to his sarcastic questions, he got no answer. 

“Your curse is stupid” Ravus stated. “That someone falls in love with an animal is brute bestiality. It will not happen.”  
“Of course it is bestiality” Ardyn agreed. “That’s the point of it. Anyone that sees Gladiolus will tag him of an animal; we humans aren’t sympathetic enough to look further the first impression” as he spoke, he put the foot down from the table, sitting normally on the chair again. “The problem is that Ignis has been living with him for three months, in total peace. They interact like allies. Maybe even like _friends._ ”  
After saying that, Ravus demanded a further explanation, and Ardyn offered it. He talked about what he saw, how Ignis was living there, his routine and activities, the casual way he and Gladiolus ignored each other and sometime spoke as if it was normal, and how Ignis had cooked for him, something that was apparently an ongoing, daily thing as well. When he told him about his room and all the comfort in there when he visited at night, he came to a stop and Ravus took the chance to speak.  
“Why did you not simply murder him in there?” Ravus asked like anyone speaking of the weather or an ant; not important, casually. “If it worries you that his relationship with Gladiolus develops, if Ignis is a threat by his mere presence in there, why not simply murder him when you could?”

“What kind of explanation would I have given to his father?” Ardyn asked with slightly widened eyes and lifted eyebrows. Ravus frowned at him and waited for a real answer. Noticing the joke was received, the redhaired smiled to himself and started toying with the stick again. “I admit, Ravus, that it crossed my mind for a moment. But I decided to wait and decide after you informed me better of him.”  
The once prince stayed quiet, expecting more explanation. Ardyn stood from the chair and calmly started pacing very slowly across the hall, lazily.  
“I thought about killing him, bring the corpse, and have Caleo die of heartbreak when he saw it” Ardyn said. “That would have gotten rid of the Scientia at once, and all the information they have going down into the grave with them.”  
“What worried you?” Ravus interrupted. “That the people of town would find it suspicious to have Scientia son appearing as a corpse the night after the father visited you?”  
“The people of Insomnia” Ardyn said, “are all stupid.”

Ravus said nothing. He stayed quiet, eyes on the Wizard, who still paced around with lazy strides.  
“They wouldn’t suspect even if they found the corpses in my house” Ardyn said and flicked lightly a wrist. “But they’re not the only people who would realize; there’s the people _in_ the castle.”  
Ravus untensed at that and he looked away for a moment, like the idea landed on him only now and had not crossed his head before.  
“If Ignis disappeared out of the blue, they would clearly notice” Ardyn said. “And then they would notice he did not do it himself. The people in there are anything but dumb; they will end up figuring I was there, and if they figure that, they will know Ignis was a threat to the curse, and will do something about it.”  
“You could have killed him, taken him out, and they would have probably thought he simply escaped.”

“Ignis has stayed at the castle for three months on free will, windows opened” Ardyn argued. “He’s clearly keeping his word. That he had stayed there for three months and decides to vanish without a trace would be suspicious. And if he does, they will look for him; even if they don’t find him, they would end up finding out he died.”  
“Why not blame it on a daemon?”  
“Ignis is far too intelligent to end up trapped in a daemon fight” was the reply.  
“So what is your answer?” Ravus asked. “You will let him stay there? Does not that threaten your curse and plans?”  
“I believed it could be a threat…at first” Ardyn stated. There was a bit of silence afterwards, and Ravus’ unevenly colored eyes squinted slightly for a second, the whole mind still cautious and attentive. After some moments, the redhaired stopped his pacing and stood there, a hand to the back and the eyes on the ceiling. “But now with that information you’ve given me, I don’t think I’ll need to go back and get rid of him. You’ve saved him, for now.”  
“Explain yourself” Ravus requested in almost a mutter. 

Ardyn sighed.  
“The way for the spell to break is not only for a young chaste soul to fall in love with Gladiolus” Ardyn explained, “it is required for that love to be expressed. And not only said; it needs to be _expressed_ , the words need to be delivered with a strong, burning passion, with the strongest sincerity and affection that could exist.”  
Ravus stayed quiet.  
“He needs to first fall in love, and then admit it to Gladiolus in a scenario where his heart is burning and loving so hard it hurts” Ardyn continued explaining. Ravus found that to be stupid, but he stayed quiet and tried to understand. “It’d already be hard enough for a normal person…but, now, I find it may be impossible for our dear Ignis.”  
“How is that?” Ravus started discussing again. “If you are trusting in the idea that he may be uninterested in any form of romance, I will remind you that that’s only the town’s gossip; nobody knows for sure” the prince argued. “He’s young. He has time to figure it out. What if he figures it with Gladiolus?”  
“You think it’s possible?” Ardyn asked him calmly and smiling as if though he already knew the outcome of the whole situation.

“Anything is” Ravus stated. “You should not be too trusty on the idea that Ignis may be frigid. He may as well not be. Will you let him stay there and find out? Mess with your plans and hence with mine? It was much easier to kill him at once.”  
“I would rather keep it as subtle as possible” Ardyn explained. “You said it yourself; you, so alike to Ignis in the romantic issue, would like a quiet, patient person. Gladiolus is everything but quiet. And you said it yourself; it could take Ignis _years_ to grow feelings for anyone, let alone a monster” the wizard made a little pause, seeming relaxed. “The best scenario would be if Gladiolus gets tired of him and frees him in a couple months, and all this issue is forgotten; if he never decides to release him, it’s going to be fine, as well” he sighed calmly. “The rose wasn’t meant to last for further six years. It will wither this year or on the first semester of the next one. It is not time enough for Ignis to develop any strong feelings for him, or anyone as a matter of fact.”

Ardyn stopped pacing around after some moments. Into the silence, he turned to look at Ravus, and found an expression he knew very well, no matter how subtle it was.  
“You’re still unsure of it” Ardyn stated.  
“Of course I am” Ravus muttered. “Feelings are not something we create ourselves. They arrive on their own to our hearts, whether we wish them or not, whether we expect them or not” the voice was low but not a murmur. “I don’t believe love depends on how much time you spend with someone but rather _how_ you spend every second with them.”  
“That’s beautiful” Ardyn said with a hint of sarcasm. “But I still believe it’s better off to leave things as they are. With some luck, Ignis will be set free in some time, and nobody will ever talk about this again. If not, the rose will wither, and whether he escapes or is murdered by the beast after the rose dies will be of no importance; the flower would have died and that’s the only thing I need. To murder Scientia son right now would only cause panic and a scandal both in the Citadel and in this town, and people could be tempted to find the truth. And if they do, they will find the castle.”

Ravus stayed quiet. What the Wizard was saying had sense, and he could not help but see he had a point.  
“From the information you’ve gathered, but also from what I personally saw of him at the Citadel” Ardyn argued, “I’m feeling positive there’s very little chances for him to be able to break the curse. Not interested in romances, not quite grasping when somebody’s courting him, and frigid. He’s a hard catch. And he behaves coldly at the Citadel; everything looks out of formality. His behavior and what you’ve managed to gather about him give me reasons to not consider him a threat” he stated and went back to the chair, letting himself fall on it, the legs moving up to rest the feet at the edge of the table again. “I knew Gladiolus. A happy, cheerful guy that loved joking around.”

Ravus furrowed slightly the eyebrows, hearing him talk, but not saying anything.  
“There’s no way a chef with a dull sense of humor and zero capability of experimenting heat in either the cock or the heart will fall in love with him in less than a year” Ardyn stated, very sure of himself. “Gladiolus will have died by then, consumed by the beast.”  
“And my sister?” Ravus asked in a mutter that almost hid a growl in among.  
“Saved, of course” Ardyn said. “It will be once with Lady Luna saved in the last moment, the Lucis Caelum and household turned forever into furniture, and the beast taking full control of Gladiolus’ mind, when I can get rid of both Scientia without causing a scandal. Not one I care about, at least.”

Ravus nodded, slow.  
“You see…no way for Ignis to develop any strong feelings for Gladiolus, then” Ravus stated as if only to confirm.  
“I see no possibility in such little time” Ardyn corrected. “Even if he did start growing any friendly feelings for him, I doubt they can come to be strong enough to turn into love.”  
“…does it really not worry you?” Ravus asked.  
“The only thing that would worry me about Ignis would be that he would fit in the ‘chaste’ concept” Ardyn said, serious.  
“Perhaps he’s not” Ravus replied. “He started the relationship with Captain Highwind at a mature and hormonal age, and she was not in age of being a maid, either.”  
“Whether he has known the pleasures of flesh before affects his chastity in nothing” Ardyn argued. “I ignore if he’s physically untouched or not, and little does it matter; the part of ‘love from a chaste soul’ does not mean ‘somebody that has never been touched in intimacy’, it refers to someone with a sincere heart clean from any sort of hatred or malice.”

Ravus frowned slightly for a moment at the words.  
“That would be a matter of worry…” Ardyn admitted. “I am not foolish, Ravus. I’m aware it’s a possibility that he may be the key of breaking the curse; he fits in the description just fine, and he’s holding a formal alliance with Gladiolus. Was he kept prisoner, the situation would be different. But they’re treating each other not only formally, but also _nicely_ ” Ardyn’s voice was as serious as Ravus had never heard it before. So far in five years he had dealt with a sarcastic and flamboyant man. Right now, however, he sounded serious for once. “Ignis _is_ a threat to a certain point. But I would be risking more daring to murder him right now than I would by leaving him as he is. I would immediately kill him was he an open-hearted man, but what I saw and what you know prove he’s cold and frigid. So the threat is minimum, almost inexistent. My best option right now is to wait; possibilities are a thousand times bigger that the rose will wither before Ignis can develop any stronger feelings, or that he’s released before it happens.”

The silver haired offered no reply. He was still unsure of the situation, but there was very little he could do about it.  
“Right now, who worries me the most would be Scientia father” Ardyn commented. “He knows…too much.”  
Ardyn stood from the chair again and looked at some of the things scattered on the table. Ravus offered no sound or words, like a soldier awaiting instructions. Because that was what he was expecting for.  
“I know it must be embarrassing, but I will require that you watch Caleo closely” Ardyn said without turning, still pretending (or serious on it, nobody could tell) that the stuff he looked at with curiosity was more important. “We can gather more information from him if we need it, but that’s not as necessary. I need you to make sure he tells no one else about this…predicament of his.”  
Ravus still did not reply and waited for more moments.  
“The focus right now is not how Ignis’ feelings develop” Ardyn said. “What matters most is that no one must know about the Citadel. Not right now. And the way Caleo’s falling straight into mental breakdown…it may give him foolish ideas.”

After some more moments of silence, Ardyn looked over his shoulder at the once prince.  
“And, Ravus?” he called with faked sweetness. “If he opens his mouth…”  
He did not need to say more. At the words, Ravus put his left hand to the grip of his sword, which rested in its sheath at his belt.  
“I’ll do it quick. He won’t feel anything” Ravus said firmly but low, frowning a bit more deeply, with the look of a prepared man rather than an angered one. Ardyn smiled and turned his attention back to the table.  
“Don’t you feel bad? It’s a sick, grown man we’re speaking about” Ardyn asked teasingly.  
“It’s my sister” Ravus stated. “All I talk about with you, everything ends up on my sister. I don’t care if I need to kill a random town man if that eventually leads me back to her.”  
“How moving” Ardyn said again with a silly smile, but stayed focused on his stuff at the table.

None said a word for a while. Ravus looked at him a little more, still a bit unsure, and let go of the grip of his sword. As the silence carried on, he contained a sigh in his chest and turned around. He had reached for the knob and had already held it when he had to freeze at the unexpected call in last minute by the Wizard.  
“Ravus.”  
Even though it had not been a desperate plea, it had not been Ardyn’s usual carefree way of speaking. The once prince of Tenebrae froze in his place and blinked, trying to contain his surprise; that Ardyn said it a slightly bit hurriedly meant he had been containing it, but had not managed to keep it. Things had to have really taken him off-guard. Ignis had really, really not been in his plans.  
Ardyn felt uneasy.  
At the realization, Ravus stayed still in his place some more moments and let go of the knob, turning enough for his side view to face the direction of the Wizard, and he said nothing.

Ardyn had stopped toying with the things he found at his own working table, and only had the hands resting there, staring at nothing on the wall and the scattered things. He still let some more moments go before he opened the mouth.  
“While I’m sure this is the right choice…I do have to admit, Ignis’ presence irritates me” Ardyn said loud enough for the other to hear, but staying rather low. There was a pause. “The rose was not gleaming, but I feel…something strange in my veins, in my magic itself…”

Ravus said nothing and gave him some time. Whether he just wanted to pause or if he was trying to analyze that sensation he was speaking about, Ravus ignored.  
“…I don’t believe Ignis will be that person to break the curse” he admitted, “but I am not a careless fool. The way they treated each other…it was formal, but ‘nice’. Ignis called him by the name. Gladiolus laughed in his presence. Ignis cooked for him. They don’t seem to be friends, but…the interaction. It makes me uncomfortable. It makes me uneasy.”  
After having said that, Ardyn turned around to face the younger man. Ravus lifted the head only slightly, enough to turn his direction on a three-quarter view so his eyes had no reason to look straight at Ardyn but still kept him in a peripherical vision.  
“I will leave them alone” Ardyn said, “and will pretend nothing happened. Unless it gets to worse. And if it comes to danger…would you be willing to murder him?”

Ravus did turn to look at him this time, his unevenly colored eyes finding those of the Wizard, looking straight at him. Ardyn was smiling at him with caution, almost with non-reciprocate complicity. The silver haired frowned at him.  
“Why wouldn’t I?” Ravus question low and dark, the chin going down but the eyes, burning, staying fixed on those of the redhaired.  
“Oh, you know” Ardyn shrugged. “He’s an excellent fighter, or so I’ve heard. He’s got ‘the abilities of a Glaive’.”  
Maybe a bit unnecessarily, Ravus pulled out his sword with the right hand, slow. He kept it up for a moment in front of his face, before putting his arm down, the tip of the sword pointing downwards that way.  
“And I have the training of the warrior prince and rightful throne heir of Tenebrae” Ravus stated. “I can handle him just fine.”

There was a pause. Into it, and after the last vibration of those words finally faded into the air, Ardyn offered a side smile.  
“Fantastic” Ardyn said and looked away, back to the table he usually worked at. “But sheath that sword. Don’t you see you’re scaring me?”  
Ravus ignored the sarcasm and did as told, bringing the sword up to put it back in its place.  
“Besides” Ardyn continued while the man was sheathing his weapon, “you don’t need it right now. You’d scare Caleo so bad you’d murder him from a heart attack, dear Ravus. We don’t want that, do we?”  
“Fine” Ravus muttered, not content with the idea of having to look after an old man he did not even know or cared about. He had been about to turn the knob again when Ardyn called for him again. The prince, a bit exasperated, stayed still on his place and looked slightly over his shoulder. “What?”

Whatever he had expected, it had not been that. Ardyn took some moments in which he squinted the eyes very slightly while looking at the once prince, smirking widely and not hiding it.  
“Your sister’s fine. I saw her today” he told the prince. If Ardyn expected any reaction, Ravus offered none…but to show nothing did not mean Ardyn did not _feel_ the way he tensed. It only made him smirk a little more. “I can picture the great smile on her face when she returns to her human form and you’re there to save her and take her back home, where you two will continue your lives like you should be doing; in your own castle, away of those poisonous Lucis Caelum that do but to deceive and betray.”  
Ravus did not answer. He kept an eye on him, still looking from above his shoulder.  
“That is, of course, so long my plans go as I say. Am I right?”  
There was a long pause.  
The reminder was obvious.  
The threat was clear. 

“Goodnight, Ravus” Ardyn bid, and he made sure to half-hum his next words only for the love of messing with the prince. “Sweet dreams.”

Ravus offered no goodbye. He opened the door and exited in complete silence.  
With the sword sheathed in its place, he left heading straight south towards his own, small house.

Ravus Nox Fleuret, once prince of Tenebrae, now only but the Healer’s assistant, in charge of spying over a man he was allowed to murder in any moment.


	13. Not Your Enemy/A Little Laugh

The training hall was a large room with tiled floor and walls.

The floor was a mixture of black and white sections, but not like a chess board. It was more as if though the ‘base’ had been white, and there were black sections by the west and east doors, and a corridor of black tiles connecting the north and south doors (seen as that was the direction the room was narrower, while west-east was the long use of it). Most of the walls were white, with a black frieze that separated the windows section many meters above the first, clear section underneath. There were six columns, which base was white, the shafts were black with only a thin line of white in the middle, and the capital, reaching the roof, was white again. The doors were golden with some patterns on them, and there was a small set of stairs to reach them. Across the room there were other doors, smaller, but framed by columns and entablatures, the ancient Lucian style.

At the eastern and western walls there was space for a single door each, and, above them to the sides, there were two big exhibition windows with a pair of long spears set there as mere decoration, crossed in an X form. In between them, and hanging right above the door, there was a long cloth hanging there as if some sort of banner. When Ignis checked, he found that the black cloth hanging there was but a way to hide another one behind, just like other clothes were hiding what seemed to be big paintings across the hall. Curiosity poked him in the entrails endlessly, but he chose not to question anything, and even though at least the paintings were to his access to remove the cloth and watch, he thought it was better off to not nose around like that; if they had been hidden from him, there had to be a reason. He had learned on the rough way that when Gladiolus or the furniture said ‘No’ to something, they really had a reason other than a mere tantrum or the desire of messing with him. He never knew if there was another curse in one of those paintings like in the rose of the west wing, so he decided it was the wisest choice to not satisfy his curiosity for once.

The first time he walked in there he kept looking around, pacing very slowly from here to there. It was not his usual thing to do, go around poking the nose everywhere he looked at…or maybe it was? With all the time he had ever since he started staying at the castle, he had found he felt an urge, almost a necessity, to explore every nook, every corner of every room he discovered. After some days, a few weeks into that, he had found it strange; the first thought in his head was that he was not one to usually poke his nose in every room he went to.  
…but, only a few days before going to the training hall, and only confirmed when he entered it, he had found that he really had no idea of whether that intense curiosity was something normal in him or not. It could sound strange; to not know the attitude and character of oneself. But there he was, not recognizing himself not because it was something he would not normally do but because he really had no idea. With his tight schedules, he barely got a chance to get a proper sleep, let alone give himself a moment to know himself. If he was naturally this urgently curious…he had no idea. He noticed throughout the days and confirmed it in the training hall that, all his life, he was usually too occupied in writing or reading papers or doing this or making that to pay attention to the rooms he was in. He had never had time to be curious.  
Until the castle, of course.

It took him quite a lot of his self-control to not take the cloths off what at least seemed to be paintings. He was curious and could not help it, but he had practice enough in not satisfying his own desires, so while it did take him a lot of effort, he soon could let go of the “childish” impulse and focus on what he had gone there to do; train. Exercise. Work-out in the extent of the concept, if possible.

He was aware that he had not done his usual work-out during an awfully long time besides a few push-ups and squats here and there, but that had been so little it had been like doing nothing at all (in his opinion, at least), so he knew he could not push himself too hard unless he wanted to exhaust his body and literally have his muscles blowing up inside him and become entirely useless. He had pushed himself past what he could give the evening Gladiolus took him out for hunting, out of mere pride, and the consequences showed not only immediately but also the day afterwards; the body did not ‘ache’ like when one starts working-out, it _burnt_. He had tried making a joke on his own name and his body ‘igniting’, but it made him feel embarrassed and start questioning his life. Prompto and Iris laughed, but it did not make him more confident; he stayed thrown down on the bed cursing in his own head and insisting it had been a wrong idea. 

Then again, that had been the previous week. He had time enough for his muscles to cool down along the days he spent awkwardly walking around with permission to go there but insecure to do it yet, so he was freshly rested to start with a proper beginning without burning himself to agony. 

A bit odd in him, he was feeling rather positive and optimist when he finally got dressed in the most comfortable clothes he found in his closet (which was full to the top thanks to Noctis’ mania with bringing him too many and too much clothing) without it being a bother, and headed to the training hall.  
When he entered and while he nosed around he remembered why he was not the optimist kind; there was the ‘something’ to spoil his situation. There always was; things went nice and good, and something, one thing, for smaller it may be, always turned the Perfect to Almost Perfect. This time, his déjà vu coming back and striking him whole on the face. 

It was on the floor, drawn in golden on the black tiles. The floor started, if seen from either the western or eastern doors, on the white stairs, and a few feet after them there was a big black square of black tiles, with yet another square inside, that had the big golden symbol, trapped in a circle. It was some sort of patterned flower, with a center, small petals around it, and bigger petals around it, colliding on and ending at the circle. Ignis only needed to look at it two seconds before the familiar sensation of the déjà vu came back; he tried looking away, but it was too late; four seconds into staring, the headache appeared, but thankfully not as strong as when he tried to figure if Gladio had a last name. It was ridiculously quick, the way the pain struck him, but he was not impressed anymore. Most of the things in the castle insisted on ruining his life by giving him that sensation of “I know this from somewhere” which, he knew, was simply stupid. For all that he knew, he had never before been in the castle, and there had to have been not a single reason all over his life to go there until the accident with his father. 

Ignis found it frustrating and a bit exasperating; that he was feeling rather positive for getting the chance to sweat out some of his stress and anger, and the very first steps into the training hall drove him to another headache out of that stupid sensation of déjà vu. He was trying to run away from the overthinking and the over-boredom, not running towards them. While he was aware that it was senseless to stare at the symbol for any longer because it simply would not say anything to him, he still could not help it. It felt so familiar. The same had happened to him before with the skull patterns, with the mere architecture of the place, with some clothes, even with Gladiolus’ name and weapon of choice, and the outcome was always the same; no matter how hard he focused, he would not be able to name the things or tag them with anything. Everything felt familiar, but at the same time it was a completely new thing to him. 

He spent some more moments staring at it, and it would be a lie to say he managed to forget when he decided to ignore it; it kept bugging him at the back of his mind, and he grew frustrated that no matter how much he focused in his work-out, he was not in his full potential because part of his energy was drained into thinking too hard on the symbol. Still, he tried his best on training.  
He set this first time for half-an-hour of exercising as a good time; not too little and not too much, at least in the conditions he was in. He had no use for the wooden lance he was offered, which waited patiently on a support nearby; before any weapon practice, he wanted to get back in shape. Not like he had lost it, but it was not as firm as his every day before his stay at the castle. So, instead of any battle practice, weapon or not, he focused on exercise routines.

There were not many places to spy from without being spotted opening any of the four doors. The hall was arranged to make it as private as possible, at the exception of the big windows which, nonetheless, were set far too high up for any person to get a look into them from the outside.  
That is, unless a person had a nice set of sharp claws and animal strength and agility to climb from the roof to the windows without dying.  
Luckily, the windowsills from the outside were large enough for a person to sit at, and despite his overgrown size, Gladiolus fit just fine comfortable sat on one of them, able to get a proper look of the inside.

Some of the furniture, mostly a couple Glaives, had asked him to take them there so they could have a look. Noctis had requested nobody bothered Ignis during his personal training, at least not at first, so that he could gain a little more confidence on visiting the hall whenever he pleased. The man adored his personal space and privacy, and the least Noctis wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable, so he guessed that having furniture randomly visiting to watch him could make him self-secure and/or awkward, at least at first. So they found it best to watch him in secrecy, not helping the curiosity; that Ignis had been a Glaive trainee in the past was a huge coincidence and they wanted to confirm it first-hand. They needed to see. Their current state of coat racks, chairs and vases did not allow them to be as agile as they were in human life, or maybe nothing at all due to lack of arms or legs in some cases, so the answer was to go with Gladiolus and ask him to help them onto the outside windowsills of the training hall that day.

They watched him nose around a little when he first entered, and most of them, Noctis more than anyone, had grown very nervous that curiosity would be bigger in Ignis than his composure and he would end up looking at the paintings and maybe even daring to somehow remove the black cloth that covered the blue and golden Glaive banter underneath, hanging on top of the doors. So far, apparently, no matter how obvious it could be, nothing had triggered Ignis enough to make him remember, but Noctis would rather not take the risk. They could do nothing subtle enough to cover the flower pattern of the floor, but if he could hide the Glaives symbol and the paintings of the prophecy and other things from Ignis, so he would. Thankfully enough, Ignis, while curious, did not remove any of the clothing he found around.

It was a little disappointing to see him only working-out. Most of the Glaives, twenty minutes into watching him on a trainee and even beginner-like exercising, asked to be put on the roof again so they could make their way back to the window of a tower nearby and leave. A few other viewers took their leave as well, but Noctis and Gladio stayed. They watched Ignis exercise for more and more minutes, until he left that half an hour behind, most possibly without noticing. The beast and the clock watched patiently and in complete silence from outside one of the windows.

Noctis’ attention, however, was secretly divided; at times he looked at Ignis, and at times he gave a subtle glance at his Shield. The one frowned in effort some moments, some others it stayed calm but focused, and the other had the eyes entirely lost in the one. It was on the last minutes of Ignis’ exercising that the king of Lucis brought conversation up, with an honest desire to express his thoughts.  
“So that’s who was supposed to be my adviser and second hand, huh?” Noctis asked with a small side smile, but there was no fun or mocking air to himself. Gladio did not sound nor turned to see him, but he needn’t show any reaction for the clock to know he was listening. “He’s quite something. No wonder he was being trained for that. He’s even more of a prince than I was.”  
“I knew he wasn’t just a random town boy” Gladio agreed with a little nod and smile. “But _this?_ That the person that ended up prisoner here happens to be the very same one that was being personally trained to be your adviser…Man…” he sighed. “The world is _so_ tiny.”

“So tiny” Noctis agreed with a small nod of his own. “Who’d have thought, huh? To train all your life to become the prince’s adviser, come to entirely forget about it all, and still end up in the Citadel and befriending him…”  
“It’s strange. His past life would lead him to end up here, and his present life, even with the curse…still led him to end up here” Gladio mused lowly but not enough to become a murmur. Both of them stayed quiet while watching the man on what was his thirty or so one-handed push-up. They had lost count among the conversation, even if they had not taken their eyes off the human. “It’s like…his destiny’s irremediably tied to this place. Or to you.”  
“So creepy” Noctis said. “Maybe the Astrals are trying to tell me something about him. Maybe they want me to keep him.”

“What is he, a pet?” Gladio asked with a little laugh, and earned some dumb stuttering from an awkward Noctis that only then noticed he could have worded his thoughts better. A usual thing that, despite that, still made him go awkward and made Gladio laugh at him. “But I get your point, little clock. Still, I don’t see…” Gladio groaned a bit and he turned a bit to seriousness. “I don’t want to sound rude, Noct. But with our current state and the inevitable destiny we’ve got to face…I don’t see how he’s still…of ‘use’ for us, to put it some way.”  
“Hm…” Noctis stayed quiet and stared down. He nodded slowly in complete silence, but Gladio only looked at him some moments before his eyes returned to the window and, through it, to Ignis, currently giving up and coming to sit on his buttocks, leaning his weight on his hands for a moment, breathing and sweating heavily.  
“I mean, not that he’s useless, but…seen as in theory you already died as a king along all the kingdom and so we did with you…”

“Hm…” Noctis repeated without opening the mouth, apparently still lost in his own thoughts. Gladio gifted him another soft glance, but as the clock did not speak nor moved, he did not pressure him and stared at Ignis again. The man had lied flat on his back, the arms covering his face, and the breath still shallow. “Maybe he’s got something to do with the key to breaking the curse?”  
“Noct” Gladio said after a small and half-bitter chuckle of response. He looked down at the clock, who kept a blank expression facing the window. “We already talked about the curse.”  
“I know, but…” Noctis started, trying not to stumble upon his words. “Maybe he’s got something to do with the answer. We didn’t find any answer before, okay…but, back then, he wasn’t around. Maybe he could affect in something and there’s a clue somewhere now.”  
“Noctis…” Gladio called almost as a non-aggressive threat, the brotherly or fatherly kind.  
“It’s just a theory” Noctis said with a little sigh. “Don’t get so fired up. I’m just saying.”

There was silence following that. They watched Ignis and the way he eventually recovered the breath to a normal pace. His shirt revealed part of his chest, apparently gleaming with sweat.  
“I wish that was the case” Gladio murmured after a while. “…but, I think that if he had anything to do with any answer, we’d already have had seen a hint, somewhere…I don’t want you or anyone to grow false hopes. It’ll only cause you harm.”  
Noctis did not say anything, but the silence he offered was an answer in itself. Ambiguous, but an answer. There was nothing none of them said or did other than look at the human. The clock, after a while, gave another of his subtle glances at Gladio, finding his shield still smiling such a small curve he doubted the Shield himself was aware of its presence. The eyes were entirely lost in the way they looked at the human. 

After a while, and when Ignis sat up on his place, Noctis turned slightly to look at the Shield.  
“Were you serious when you said you could ‘look at him all day’?” the clock shamelessly and cheekily questioned him. Gladio, of course, reacted to that; there was a small flinch of reaction, but nothing too rough or noticeable, and his smile faded entirely, his eyebrows shrugging lightly. There was an odd silence that Noctis found amusing despite how strongly awkward it was.  
“Yeah” Gladio said without turning to look at him, eyes still fixed entirely on the human. “As a soldier. For studying reasons, of course.”  
“Studying reasons” Noctis repeated, not impressed.  
“Studying reasons, don’t you believe me?” Gladio asked him a bit moody, but not in the dangerous beast-like way. He was still fully conscious and the clock knew to difference that, so he found it safe to continue.  
“Studying what?” the clock asked with a little laugh. “You already figured he used to be a Glaive trainee. You don’t need to ‘study’ him more, do you?”

“Yes, I need” Gladio said on the defensive. “You know, I can…study him and his battle and work-out routine better, so I can…” he took a few moments and then cleared his throat. “It’s perfectly normal; I’m a warrior that studies other warriors to learn from them.”  
“Is that so?” Noctis asked and both his expression and voice claimed that he was not buying it, but despite how obvious it was, both pretended otherwise.  
“Yeah” Gladio affirmed. “He has a lot to demonstrate and show off, so I’m willing to learn from him. You know, I’ll improve myself, and I can also learn how to handle him if he tries to escape again.”  
“Uh” Noctis let out simply after a few moments of silence of just staring at Gladio as if expecting him to change his words. The Shield, however, ignored him most of the time, and when he did turn to face him it was to offer a completely faked and rather cocky grin. The clock rolled his eyes at him. “Okay. Whatever. But you’re aware this is stalking, right?”  
“Stalking?” Gladio asked as if offended. “It’s not stalking! Stalking would be if I looked at him doing private stuff. Training is not private. I just want to see him but he’s too uncomfortable in my presence, so what else can I do?”

Noctis said nothing. Before he could come with a reply, and while both looked at Ignis, the man suddenly started taking his sweat-damped shirt off. When the exposed back came to their sights, both the clock and the beast widened the eyes as if though they wanted them to pop out of their sockets, and, at the first motion of Ignis starting to turn around and to their direction, both let out a high-pitched, silly yelp and hurried to hide, Gladio climbing to the top of the window and Noctis throwing himself down, face first, to not be noticeable from Ignis’ point of view. The panic consumed them a bit childishly, but too serious at the same time; Gladio trembled and kept the eyes open wide and feeling his face burn from under all the fur.  
“Okay, _that_ is stalking” Gladio said and still waited more moments until he felt sure that Ignis was not looking their direction anymore. Still, Noctis dragged himself onto the windowsill to get as close to a side as possible, where Gladio, trying to avoid passing in front of the glass, reached a hand down and carefully picked Noctis up. “I definitely can’t see that, that’s different from seeing him work-out.”  
“Phew” Noctis sighed a bit tremblingly. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s…let’s leave.”

Still a bit trembling, and being very grateful that he was unable to physically blush, Gladio carried with the clock through the roof of the training hall and away, desiring with all his might that Ignis really did not see them. 

It had not been first time he saw Ignis’ back, but to be caught staring at someone when they were not meant to be looking was definitely different, and a universal thing that everybody wanted to avoid. 

\--

A few days after Ignis’ first private session at the training hall, Gladio found him doing that ridiculous thing of the window again. Apparently, Ignis was super serious on the tiny orchard he was working on. At least in theory, since all the practical work had to be done by the furniture that had agreed to help him on it. The square of earth he had dedicated to plant the seeds (which he got from the Astrals know where, Gladio realized only then) was rather small and pathetic, but that did not seem to discourage the man in any moment. He had to order and boss around seen as he could not go to the outside, and apparently standing nearby a window was too normal for him, so he, once more, had come to stand at the windowsill again. Gladio rolled the eyes; Ignis had taken his legal hole of ‘See, I’m not outside’ too serious and enjoyed of it.

Gladio stood there some moments, in a visual way enjoying of the scene before him; it was still ridiculous and awkward, but it _looked_ good, the way Ignis stood there with the light against him, making most of him but a shadow. The large window plus the man standing on it made it seem as if it was a painting of a man standing at the bottom, elegantly looking at something invisible to the viewer. This time, however, unlike the first times he found him standing at windowsills, Ignis kept the hands busy petting his mare; every time Ignis was nearby a window, Nox would rush her way towards him to nuzzle at him. Every time, Ignis spoiled her. From what Gladio had sometimes seen, it was not just petting an animal; it was almost like cuddling with a friend or a sibling. Ignis showed so much care for her, petted and hugged her, whispered sweetly and warmly at her, and even nuzzled back. It was sweet, but too intimate, and Gladio had not dared to look too often. He felt like an intruder. Besides, it made him feel guilty, realizing not only the animal but also the human felt some sadness from only being able to cuddle that way, separated partly by a wall. 

Gladio broke out of his viewing of the man at the window and started calmly heading towards him. The Shield went through his mental list of nicknames for the man and, once he was standing close to him, he greeted in his usual mocking way.  
“Still looking like a fairy tale princess about to sing something about birds and bunnies when you do that” Gladio said as a Hello, resting a side against the wall and crossing both arms, offering a side smile at the man, who calmly turned his attention from the mare towards the beast, without taking his hands off her. “What’re you doing now, Knife Master?”  
“That one’s new. I feel flattered” Ignis greeted and his attention went to the outside. “I am watching over the orchard.”  
“Hm” Gladio let out but it did not sound like mockery. “You’re still pretty positive that thing’s gonna work, huh?”  
“I see no reasons it won’t” was the simple answer.

Both stayed quiet afterwards. Nox snorted very softly, her ear twitching once.  
“You know, we can still get the necessary out of exploring ‘round” Gladio told him rather softly. The way he sounded was almost comparable to that of being told ‘It’s okay, really, stop apologizing’, even though not as deep or explicit. Still, that it had not been a joke or insult made Ignis move the eyes to a side to subtly stare at the beast again. “You don’t need to stress with planting seeds and watering them and all.”  
“I will ask for the soil to be removed if that’s what you want, Gladiolus” Ignis replied without turning the head to his direction, looking down at the mare and controlling his balance when she nuzzled at him, as if requesting of him to go properly outside with her.  
“That’s not what I mean” Gladio replied with a little sigh of frustration. “I just don’t see why you take so much of a bother to plant stuff I already gather as easily in the wild.”  
“And I already told you” Ignis insisted, “that I try to reduce our stress. You’re constantly going and coming collecting what you find in the wild for our stocks to remain as rich as possible. If the orchard works, we will have access to a nearby area where a couple of vital elements grow, so you don’t have to go as far and into a dangerous zone to collect them as often as you do.”  
“I appreciate the concern” Gladio said and even though Ignis frowned at him, the words were only half-sarcasm. “Where did you get the seeds, though?”

There was a bit of an awkward silence after that. Ignis looked away from him, and even though it was calm, there was something odd in the quiet way he stood there, almost as if embarrassed or scared in a childish way. Gladio was not oblivious to the weird air around and lifted an eyebrow at him.  
“…I collected some from the same vegetables I used for cooking the night prior to starting the orchard” Ignis admitted. It sounded true, but also half-a-statement. It did not go unnoticed.  
“…and?” Gladio invited him to continue, not sounding aggressive or harsh, but not as friendly either. There was silence afterwards. Ignis pretended to be busy caressing the mare’s head. Both stayed quiet and Gladio noticed the way Ignis swallowed. Impossible not to notice, what with such a perfectly-sculpted throat, Gladio thought with a little impatience.  
“Some others…from…the market” Ignis stated a bit insecurely, but it did not sound at all like a lie. The beast chuckled with some sarcasm.  
“The market” Gladio repeated. “On your weekly shopping, I assume?”

“Don’t believe me, then” Ignis replied and still did not turn to look his way. After a couple of moments, he came down from the window back into the proper inside of the room, turning to face the beast but keeping the eyes on the outside. Nox neighed as if in complaint of him having removed his hands off her. Gladio looked at him some moments and his eyes analyzed him a bit; while Ignis did not show it, Gladio’s eyes were trained to spot the little details he caught sight of in him in those moments. The trembling of his limbs would have gone totally unnoticed by anyone that was not trained an Amicitia or a Glaive…a very sharp Glaive. Ignis had not bent his back too noticeably, but he still had a slightly different look on his way of standing. Nothing that looked out of ordinary…except to Gladio, too trained into analyzing the enemy’s body language (and friends and anyone, to be sincere) to not notice.  
Ignis was physically tired, and aching. 

There was silence while the beast eyed him, and the human did not even seem to either care or notice at all. Gladio considered it was best to go with ‘did not care’; that Ignis did not notice something could only be result of a curse, very literally. Gladio was sure that the man had remembered everything ever since he first stepped into the Citadel, but the curse did not allow him to end up noticing he remembered. Not only had Gladio and company been awful at hiding stuff like symbols and their names themselves, Ignis was terribly sharp and smart. Gladio had already noticed, but to have read through the paper records on Ignis’ archive of the Citadel made it worse.

Apparently, and out of what the papers said about him, he was born a genius child and grew to only become smarter with every passing day. He had a degree by age fifteen and another one at seventeen, and the last thing recorded about him was that he was studying and outstanding in a damn _doctorate_ course. Outsmarted everyone in mathematics, and while formulas had no literal use, the fact that he was so quick and brilliant in said subject only meant he had a quicksilver mind capable of solving riddles and problems at the speed of light. No wonder the papers recalled he was being trained not only a Glaive but also a strategist. With a head like that, Ignis could have outsmarted the Empire. If only he had been born in the previous generation, maybe then Lucis could have stood a chance and things would have taken a different way.

While thinking about it, Gladio put himself to a stop when he realized he was expecting far too much from the guy. It was fine to admit he was a brilliant, unique mind, but another thing was to put on him the weight of saving an entire kingdom on his own, even if only hypothetical.  
Gladio wondered if Ignis had been put through heavy expectations across his life…and if that could have affected in some way. He could only wonder.

“Anyway” Gladio sighed to come out of his own head and sensing the awkward of having stood there in complete silence for a bit too long, “I’ve been looking for Noct. I tried looking for Prompto when I didn’t find him, but I’ve seen none of them. I’m a bit worried; these two teaming up and magically disappearing smells like troubles. Have you seen them?”  
There was an odd silence again. Gladio waited some moments and squinted the eyes very slightly when he realized that Ignis became awkward in almost a comical way. He did not even need to move; the air to himself just turned odd. There was a small tension in his shoulders.  
“Ignis?”  
“I…may have” Ignis half-stated again. The beast gave him a suspicious glance and some moments of quiet.  
“…so…where are they?” Gladio invited him to answer again.

Ignis still took some moments. The tension between them grew some moments, and almost as if to get courage, Ignis moved a hand up to push his glasses onto his nose.  
“The market” he said simply and lowly, as usual.  
“I’m serious” Gladio said after some moments, impatient.  
“So am I” Ignis stated again and turned to look at the beast. None moved or said anything for a moment. The beast’s expression eventually turned into a frown.  
“…explain” Gladio commanded, even though the voice was low and he did not seem to turn into aggression.  
“I…” Ignis cleared his throat before speaking and stretched a hand to pet Nox’s head again, as if needing an excuse not to look at Gladiolus. “I thought it would be a good thing for both of us if I got a little more variety among our supplies besides the usual spices and vegetables; personally, I was thinking of some ingredients that cannot be found in the wild as easily or at all” Ignis started explaining, and Gladio pushed himself away of the wall, seeming to understand with only that but waiting for confirmation, eyes wide and frown deepening in both anger and suspense. “Seen as it is forbidden to me to put a foot on the outside, unless you request so of me, I have found myself in the necessity to ask for a little aid on the task, and those two happily offered themselves…”

“…Ignis” Gladio called slowly and almost in a nagging-threat voice. The human only looked at him by side-glancing, like a child avoiding his mother’s eyes but too scared to not look at her either. “Be concise.”  
“Okay” Ignis said calmly, put his hands away of Nox, and turned to look at him properly. “I sent Noctis to the nearest market.”  
“You _what!?_ ” Gladio detonated besides him, and the man only flinched. He, however, did not step back. Ignis only reacted with that flinch and the turn of the body to the beast’s direction, and Nox reacted with a protective neigh. “You sent _who_ where!?”  
“I sent Noctis and Prompto to the nearest town and its market” Ignis repeated as calmly as he managed, even though the awkward was still present. Gladio looked at him as if though the man had just suggested on why not set the castle on fire for fun; eye-widened and with no words.  
“You sent _who_ …where!?” Gladio asked louder this time, and while Ignis tried to defend himself and came up with random sarcastic comebacks, the beast turned over his heels and growled loudly, pulling from the hair of his head, before turning again to face the man. “You sent…you sent your…!”

“My what?” Ignis asked him, frowning a little at the sensation that the beast was just overreacting, pulling his arms up to cross them.  
“Ignis, you don’t…you don’t…!” Gladio stumbled upon his words and had to swallow most of them. It took him a great effort not to let certain words out, having to swallow them when they were already slipping past the edge of his tongue. “You don’t…send…you don’t send _him_ to…!” he grew exasperated and his hands motioned into the air like trying to catch something invisible while growling loudly. “Ignis, you don’t send…” _your bad-knee, tiny, fragile, vulnerable and literally made-of-wood **King** into the wild and nearby human people to go grocery shopping!_  
It sounded _so_ stupid. Not as in senseless; it sounded like something obvious. Nobody in their sanity would throw Noctis in his current condition to the danger of the outside; he was small and could literally break with only the step of an animal, even with just a false step that made him hit against a rock, and even if he made it to the town, he could be seen by people and they could take him as a circus amazement piece or to a mad scientist’s laboratory or something as stupid and bad. Nobody would toss their king into danger like that.  
…unless it was someone who had no idea that was the king he just sent to the market.

It was very easy to just yell at Ignis what he had done, but Gladio _could not_ do that. That he literally was forbidden to do such a thing made his frustrated. So he only looked at Ignis with the wide eyes and looked away, claws digging into the fur of his head while he growled loudly.  
“Ignis, you don’t do that!” he called loudly. “They can get hurt, don’t you see the nearest town is like a day away- on human feet!? They’re going to- Shiva’s boobs, this is so bad-”  
While he spoke, Gladio reached for the window and hopped to the outside, Nox moving to a side with another neigh of complain.  
“They took the carriage” Ignis said as if that made things less bad. It…somehow did, but Gladio was not in the mood to admit that, and he only looked back at the human with the wide, nagging eyes. “They should be coming before this very same twilight.”  
“That’s not the point, Ignis!” Gladio insisted, opening the arms slightly as if this was super obvious. The man, however, only kept a confused frown and look on him. “You don’t…he’s…he shouldn’t…”

Exasperated and unable to find proper words without ruining it, Gladio growled yet again and started walking with heavy and hurried steps to the outside wall.  
“You don’t move from there!” he called a last time while looking over his shoulder for a moment only, pointing at Ignis with a threatening finger.  
“I don’t move from here” Ignis confirmed too quietly for the beast to hear. 

He watched the beast hurry to the outside wall. After some moments, Ignis closed the eyes softly and raised the chin, letting out a tiny ‘Hum’, and his hands returned to Nox’s muzzle and cheek.  
“He’s so over dramatic.”

\--

Ignis had been sure Gladio would not get too close to the nearest village, as it was too dangerous and he would be noticed. It had been during the day that the furniture had taken the carriage, so there was light and activity in human villages and towns. So he really had no idea what Gladiolus had intended, and the beast possibly had no idea either, but he had gone either way. The best he could get was to intercept the carriage when it was coming back, already miles and miles away of any human soul, take the clock and the candelabra out, and carry them himself on the way back. Like that changed anything. It did not, but he took the chance to keep nagging them all over the jogging back to the Citadel. Needless to say, Noctis fell asleep mid preach, and Prompto was busy staring at butterflies and birds.

The worst of the case was that they _had_ bought all that Ignis requested for and a little more. Not taken, they _bought_ that stuff. Dough, bread (seen as the extra supplies on them had almost all ran out, especially after that had been Ignis’ only meals during his stay in the tower), rice, some milk, prepared spices, among many other things. When Gladio had questioned them about how they managed to steal all that, they explained that Ignis had given them a little bag with money; the man had brought the little bag with himself when he first arrived at the castle, but as it had had no use, he had kept it in a drawer. Noctis laughed and said that it was a sad, empty bag, so he ended up sneaking into the Citadel’s treasury room. It was not like they kept a huge room filled of golden coins like in fairy tales; most was paperwork. But there were amounts of money scattered around the castle, so Noctis thought it would make no harm to take some coins and go shopping.

Gladio, still moody, asked if the sellers had thanked them for the humble shopping. The sarcastic question earned a groan and sigh from Noctis right before the clock decided to best snuggle into Gladio’s fur on his back to get a small nap, so it was up to Prompto to answer. He explained Ignis had given them instructions; they took what they needed from the market and left the exact amount of money somewhere for the owner to spot at some point. The candelabra started babbling about feeling “like one of those ninja of ancient stories, sneaking around taking things from right under their nose and still go unnoticed” among many fantasies and daydreaming and silly little stories from their touring around the market. Prompto seemed impressed at the quantity of people he found, and had Noctis been awake he would have totally smacked the candelabra with sarcasm.

Even though he chided them good and long and threatened they did not do it again, Gladio decided to not make a major issue out of it. Both were safe, had gone unseen, and there was quite a rich variety of ingredients for Ignis to “play the chef”, according to the Shield’s own words. He had tried to get a look of what the pair of friends had bought, but Noctis had not let him open the carriage. Gladio was not in beast mode, but he was not in a good mood either, so he merely rolled the eyes, muttered a ‘Fine’ and urged them both to go back inside the castle. 

Despite having been nagged all the way back to the Citadel, Gladio found both friends to be a little too giggly and as if hiding something, but he was not feeling in the mood to deal with ‘a pair of kids’, so he left them behind to go ‘look for Ignis and make sure he hasn’t done something stupid like tie bedsheets together to climb down a tower like a princess’.

When he was out of sight, Prompto and Noctis hurried to hide the most precious ingredient in a corner of the pantries.  
Still giggling, both decided to have Ignis cook it someday without letting him know that was the beast’s absolute favorite.

\--

A couple days later, Ignis was betrayed by his own reflexes. 

It had been four days since he started his now daily work-out routine at the training hall. Unlike the first two days, the last two had been free from that odd sensation that somebody stared from somewhere. Ignis had had enough with the constant déjà vu and the being-stared-at-sensation from days ago to really care on looking around; he would spot no one, he guessed, like the first time he had had that feeling, so he did not give himself the time to look around and only focused in his exercising. Even though he spent very little time (at least compared to what he was used to before the castle) on it, he had come to start doubting if he was handling this wisely; he had set certain routines and times according to the need of being careful with his body and not push it too hard, and while he had yet not died out of muscle ache, it had become a trouble by that fourth day.

His body was in constant pain. He was aware that going back into working-out after this long would make him ache like any beginner, but this did not feel quite right. He guessed, while soaking himself with water from a barrel at a corner of the training hall, put there for a quick cleaning post cooling post training, that maybe it was wise to not only set a relatively soft routine and keep it short-timed, but to also not do it daily like he was doing. Maybe have a resting day between two of training…he was not so content with the idea. He liked to be constant on his duties and works, and taking a break felt wrong. He had never, _never_ before, so far he remembered, taken a break from the stuff he did. It was unknown to him, and he preferred to not experiment.  
Then again, his body was pleading for him for said break, so he had to consider it seriously.

After the quick cleaning and drying himself, he got dressed in the spare set of clothes he always brought to the hall. He sweated enough, and while his clothes did not get terribly wet or dirtied, he was not one to enjoy small stains either if he could help it. Not that he was a paranoid of cleaning, but…he was not fan number one of dirt either. Once he was dry, he started dressing himself in the clean clothes, taking his time. Not that he had anything else to do…  
Maybe it was the fact that he was getting very used to his stay in the castle, but on the previous days he had realized the weight of not having anything serious to do, like never before. He had felt the sensation and had tried battling it occupying himself with different tasks, but it was suddenly not enough.

Sighing and trying not to think too much into it, Ignis started heading for the exit. Outside, he was greeted by a jumping Talcott, eager on wanting Ignis to agree on taking him to the pantries to see the new collection of ingredients that Noctis and Prompto brought from the human market. Ignis, a bit confused on why the tea cup, unable to eat, was so excited to see all that, still smiled softly at him and reached down to carefully take him in a hand. He brought the kid up to his shoulder and made sure he would not fall, and the tea cup jumped on him exclaiming constant ‘Go’s. Ignis softly shook the head and decided he had nothing better to do, so why not? 

Ignis started walking, calm. The expression blank, he listened to Talcott ramble about something about tonberries and cactuars, paying attention to him while also seeing where he was going, making sure to be taking the right path. He went through some hallways and reached a staircase, and turned to the left.  
And it was at the end of that hallway that he jumped and yelped out.  
Gladio appeared from nowhere and almost made the man crash with him. The reflexes were sharp enough not to collide, but not enough to take it lightly; Ignis stepped and stumbled back so bad he almost fell down hadn’t he hold onto a nearby table, almost dropping an unanimated vase, at the time the pathetic sound escaped him.  
Of course, the beast laughed.

Ignis felt his face burn, and he was thankful enough the beast was busy laughing loudly at him and therefore would not notice his red face. The human, frowning, stayed still on his place some moments before reaching a hand up to adjust his glasses on him, embarrassed and angered. He pulled himself back properly on his feet and cleaned invisible dust from his white, long-sleeved shirt, still frowning so much his eyebrow twitched lightly. Gladio was still laughing.  
Ignis made sure that Talcott was alright and put the vase back in its place (exactly two inches to the right and turned it 10 degrees south), and the beast was still laughing. The human stood there only frowning, and he eventually crossed the arms while watching the other hold his tummy while bursting into almost sobbing.  
“It was not that funny, Gladiolus” Ignis nagged. “Stop it. You’re exaggerating just to make me feel humiliated. It is not working.”

“You should-“ Gladio gasped for air among laughter. “The look- your face-”  
Ignis stayed still and closed the eyes to count to ten in his head not to break a leg off the table and use it to impale the beast right through the ribcage, while the latter continued laughing. He gave the taller figure time enough to recover and catch the breath, watching him move a finger up to clean a tear from the effort of laughter.  
“Oh man” Gladio said and laughed again, but softer and only for a second now. “You were like-”  
He made an exaggerated impression and a silly expression of surprise, and he started laughing again. Ignis kept the arms crossed and watched the beast eventually start to take his leave, shaking the head and cleaning the tears of laughter.  
“My Gods” the beast swore and laughed shortly again. “I’m so never getting tired of this.”

Ignis stayed quiet and glared at him while Gladio laughed softer but constantly, walking away from him. Once he was at a safe distance, Ignis almost literally growled and glared harder at him.  
“See, he’s definitely doing this on purpose” Ignis hissed in a whisper to the tea cup, who was quiet and a bit shocked on his shoulder.  
“What are you doing to do, mister Ignis?” Talcott asked him.  
“I told you” Ignis whispered at him; “I’m going to get him back myself.”  
Talcott watched Ignis glare harder at him, and the cup wished from the bottom of his metaphorical heart that the man would not do that horrific mom chiding again of scooping eyes out.

Before he could question anything, Ignis rushed back on his steps and started hurrying back upstairs. The tea cup asked him what he was doing or where he was going, but the man stayed quiet as if he was alone, rushing his way down through another set of steps, jumping the railing of the U-shaped staircase to hurry even more, and rounding a hallway before he came to a stop. His steps were terribly quiet as he almost tiptoed until reaching the end of the wall, and he pressed his back to it. He silently requested silence from Talcott, and proceeded to place the little cup down on the table nearby, not making a sound. He turned his head in the direction of the end of the wall as if trying to look at the adjacent hallway. He put the ear up and listened closely until he spotted the sound of paws and claws against the carpeted floor; it was subtle but noticeable.  
_Target confirmed._

Ignis waited, and completely unnecessary calculations went through his mind at the speed of light, the ear still fully attentive. He waited…patiently…hearing…  
And when the target was right at the other side of the corner, Ignis stepped from his hideout.  
He hurried the single step, almost a tiny jump, to stand right in front of Gladiolus as if appearing from thin air right a few inches from the beast.  
The reaction was immediate; while Ignis stood there, proud and keeping the chin up, his sudden magical appearance from nowhere made Gladiolus let out a loud half-yelp half-scream as he stumbled backwards, almost as if he was a little child who had walked into a Marilith or a Master Tonberry. His arms _flailed_ around his head at the time he let out that pathetic scream.

The sight was ridiculous; a beast the size of a teen garula, with fangs and horns and body strength of a behemoth, eyes wide, arms dancing in the air, stumbling back and with that stupid, very dumb and ridiculous scream in a pure childish but true terror. The sound of the scream.  
Ignis tried to contain it…but reflexes are known for coming on their own and be unable to avoid.  
It was a reflex…he had not meant for it to happen, but it still did.

Ignis laughed.

After Gladio had stumbled and screamed, which only took a matter of a few seconds, he reacted by giving Ignis very wide eyes, pressing a hand to his chest.  
“Ignis, what the _fuck!?_ ” Gladio yelled, but he still stood like a man; no beast in sight. Ignis could not help it and he snorted, before a tiny ‘Hah’ escaped him along a grin. It would have continued but he put a hand to his mouth and tried to contain himself, staring down to shield his face away from Gladiolus. “You don’t do that, what the hell are you trying to do, give me a heart atta-!?”  
Gladio shut himself up as soon as his brain finished processing the fact that Ignis had snorted. His words had been a rushed mess that had been delivered at the same time the man snorted, grinned and shielded away of his sight, so it took him some more words before stopping and realizing what had happened. 

Now quiet, Gladio suddenly forgot about his anger and fear and he watched with curious and very confused, surprised eyes at the man. Ignis trembled lightly trying to contain himself, and he kept a hand to his mouth, hiding it behind a fist. Still, Gladio could see the smile behind it, and after some moments Ignis started laughing again; he barely did any sound and he fought hard to contain it, so it was very low, even silent. But the instinct was stronger than him; he put the head down and kept the hand close, but his shoulders trembled while he laughed as quietly. The sounds were intermittent, between laughing and forcing himself to stop, and he kept the head down. The beast’s expression softened until he really could not care less about the man’s sudden revenge, and he only kept the eyes on the human, surprised and completely off-guard. 

Ignis looked up again, the lips pressed together in a clear sight of him still containing the laughter…but the curve of his lips still showed a bit. His eyebrows twitched a bit, and he had to look away to a side while moving the hand up again to hide his mouth behind it, moving the chin slightly back to hide part of his face as well, and the quiet laughter sounded again. Gladio, mouth open and eyes slightly widened, looked at him in complete silence. The human closed the eyes and coughed on purpose, clearing his throat and taking in a breath to calm himself. He stood straight again and adjusted his shirt on himself, eyes still closed. When he opened them, a smile escaped him again and he looked away again, fighting with all his might not to burst in laughter but not helping the silly smiles. 

Gladio still stared at him in awe. It took Ignis a few more moments before he snorted slightly a last time, but immediately frowned and cleared his throat behind a hand, which he put down at the time he recovered his expression of always; cold and in an eternal slight frown, like he was constantly angered, and like he had not laughed just a second ago. The beast tilted the head lightly to a side.  
“Ignis…” he called lowly. “You laughed…”  
“No, I did not” Ignis called and cleared his throat again, eyes moving away and arms coming to cross.  
“You definitely did” Gladio called and was finally able to smile at the man. There was no mockery, but Ignis felt embarrassed, so he looked away a bit more and felt his face coming to burn again. Frowning deeper at that, he also moved a hand up to cover his mouth as if hiding his cheeks that way as well, embarrassed. “What…the… _hell_ , in the name of holy Shiva, dear Six, _what…the…hell?_ ” Gladio called and laughed shortly and lowly, leaning slightly down as if to take a closer look from Ignis like he was a rarity. The man merely pulled himself half a step back and did not look back at the beast. “Ignis, you _laughed._ ”

“So?” Ignis called finally turning his way, pretending that the slightly flushed cheeks were not happening in an attempt of the color fading if he acted like it was not there.  
“I didn’t think it was possible that you could even _smile_ ” Gladio said with a bigger grin this time, still trying to get a closer look from Ignis like a curious kid trying to pull the end of the tablecloth up and see what’s under it. Ignis, of course, kept moving the head other sides to avoid him, frowning. “And I saw you _laugh_ , holy shit!” the beast laughed a bit and Ignis ended up snapping the head to a side, frowning a bit more and feeling the redness come back to his face. He felt stupid, almost in a tantrum. Gladiolus laughed in front of him. “I saw you _laugh_ , oh gods, that’s so rare- I have the right to ask for a wish! I saw the rarity, I take the wish, okay? Give me space.”

Ignis rolled the eyes. More than dealing with a beast, sometimes he felt like he was under the watch of a hyperactive child. He did not step back and only watched, unamused, as Gladio closed the eyes and looked away as if for inspiration, staying quiet for some five seconds.  
“Done” Gladio said and looked back at him, still smiling. Ignis looked away from him, moody, and the beast merely laughed softly. “You laughed.”  
“I heard you already, Gladiolus” Ignis said in almost a chiding tone. “I may have laughed a little bit, but that’s no reason for a reaction like this” the beast seemed to have an answer, but the man merely half-nodded at him and spoke before giving him a chance. “Now, if you excuse me, I have better things to do other than-”  
“Other than scaring the hell outta me?” Gladio interrupted with a small smile that almost felt out of complicity rather than sarcasm or entertainment. “Why did you do that? _Where_ did you come from? Like, holy shit, I had just left you at the hallway over there, there’s no way you could have come here as fast and definitely not this way, how did you do it!?”

“I believe I have come to grow familiar and well acquainted with the ways and the map of the castle” Ignis informed with a slight hint of pride somewhere, but the frown was frozen and unchangeable on his face. “I simply took a shortcut to get you right where I needed. You’re lucky it’s me; anyone else would have killed you. You should practice on your reflexes and your sharpness.”  
“Well, _excuse me?_ ” Gladio said, but there was no angered reaction. Instead, there was a little laugh. “You don’t know who you’re talking to, boy.”  
He really did not, but Ignis could not tell, and believed he did. Still, Gladio contained himself again on exposing his real identity and stayed on the joke spectrum.  
“But why did you do that? I almost get a heart attack, you know” Gladio said after his little laugh, trying to avoid the previous subject. “That’d make you quite happy, right?”  
“While I do know it could make things a little easier for my situation, your death would bring me no personal pleasure” Ignis admitted and Gladio did not feel offended; he shook the head and rolled the eyes. “I’m pleased enough with having gotten you back on this ‘startling’ issue. I hope you learned the lesson.”

“Lesson?” Gladio asked, amused. “What lesson? All I learned is that you’re a rogue type of fighter that can sneak his way like a damn ninja and that you can _laugh_.”  
“The lesson, Gladiolus” Ignis called and fought against himself for his cheeks not to turn red again, and clearly trying to avoid the matter on him having laughed as most as possible, “is what I told you some days ago; it’s the surprise element what’s made me jump every time you appear from around the corner unexpectedly. Not you; it’s the surprise element.”  
Gladio groaned in response along a small eye roll.  
“Well, okay, I get it, Sir Tonberry the First” Gladio called and saw Ignis widening slightly the eyes at him, opening the mouth to come with a response at the new nickname, but the beast took the word faster than him. “Last time you do that, though. Did you hear me?”  
“It’ll be the last so long you promise to stop as well” Ignis said firmly. “I’m tired of your personal hobby. I am not a clown for your amusement.”

Gladio laughed, but it did not sound like mockery. The softness of it made Ignis untense his shoulders, and it made him feel a bit bad for some idiotic reason he was unable to name.  
“Never seen you as one” Gladio said lowly at him. “But I’ll stop. If it’s bothering you for bad. Is it?”

At the question, Ignis’ frown faded and he looked at the beast with surprise in the eyes. He did not even try to hide it until he realized, a bit too late, that he had looked at him with the confusion clear on the face. He uncrossed the arms, very uncomfortable, and looked away. His eyebrows shrugged and his chin went very subtly down. Something in the question…or maybe everything about it had made him feel bad again. Like he had done wrong, even when the beast did not seem to have been offended. The man took some moments. His inside tickled with some guilt.  
That had been…terribly sweet. Asking. The intention of the question. The meaning.  
Ignis had known it from before, but he always forgot and always ended up doing it again; seeing Gladiolus as a brainless animal, and Gladiolus showing not only mercy but also…kindness. Even sweetness.  
Suddenly, Ignis felt as if though his revenge was meaningless and Gladio had been the one teaching him something, even when it had been taught many times before.

He nodded, not looking at the other.  
Gladio raised slightly an eyebrow at the sudden reaction he got from the man, not understanding at all. He took the first assumption he made of it, understanding that, to Ignis’ eyes, he was still a brute and heartless beast, so the show of some normal kindness would always take him off-guard; that he behaved kind like back in his human years had yet not stopped to make Ignis feel bad. If he felt bad it only meant it was out of guilt, and if there was guilt, that meant that Ignis still saw him as an animal.  
Or maybe Ignis had just…not expected Gladio to offer to stop pulling pranks on him, and it had nothing to do with his animal state. Maybe.

Gladio tried not to make a big deal out of it, not knowing at all how to feel.  
“Okay” he said in almost a murmur. “I’ll stop.”  
Ignis did not reply for a moment. He only nodded slowly before looking at Gladio; the eye contact first made him look away before he locked their gazes together again, and he gave a forced smile and a small nod at him for a silent thanks.

The beast looked at him a couple moments, analyzing him for only a moment. His body still trembled. He wondered if he had pushed himself too far in the training hall. Gladio thought about it for a moment and tried to come with a logical answer, trying to understand the man’s mind and the way it could be working. The thing that occurred to him was to think (as a possibility, of course) that if Ignis was pushing himself too far, maybe he was, even if subconsciously, a bit desperate to release body stress through working-out. That would not work, and Gladio knew it. The body needed more than hot exercising indoors to be satisfied. Muscles were not the only thing that needed attention. Lungs and eyes and the nose and, most importantly, the heart, both metaphorically and literally, needed of something _more_. 

The body would always need of the outside.  
Daily exercising indoors is not and would never be equal to be fully healthy. A good balanced diet was necessary, sure, but that was not the point either. The body literally needed of the outside; proper sunlight, proper fresh air, proper _outside_ overall in all aspects. Standing at a window did not count. There would never be anything that replaced a peaceful moment of going outside, even if only to the gardens, even if only for a walk. That was a necessity, and he knew it. If he did not give Ignis’ subconscious what it was desperate for, it would end up forcing him into more and more endless working trying to fill the hole with extra working to replace the breath from the outside.

Still in his quick but deep analysis, Gladio found that he could not tell Ignis to go take a walk at the gardens, or he would take it as some sort of permission to come and go as he pleased, and that was not the point, but he could not ask him to go hunting again with the current state of his already aching muscles. He also could not go walk with him to the gardens, that would be awkward. But he also did not want to not do anything about it. He wanted Ignis to stay healthy.  
Thinking, the Shield moved a hand up to scratch under his chin with his claws with a quiet ‘Hm’ and he soon came up with an excuse.  
“Say, I was thinking about your little sowing thing” Gladio said after a few moments, and Ignis turned to look at him, still with that slight insecurity from before. “That’ll take some weeks. You wanna be useful? You come help me with today’s collecting.”  
“I do what?” Ignis asked, furrowing slightly the eyebrows in confusion.  
“You said you wanted to save me some time and effort from my daily gathering of your ingredients, right?” Gladio asked and started walking, going past Ignis, who stayed quiet and head slightly down, confused. “Then come help me.”

Ignis took a few seconds before turning around and starting to walk behind Gladiolus, still a bit confused.  
“I may not be understanding very well, Gladiolus” Ignis started, “are you ordering me to go…outside…too look for food with you?”  
“I wouldn’t say ‘order’…” Gladio said with the little shrug of a shoulder. “But yeah. Would you rather rot in boredom for the rest of the evening?”

Ignis stopped for a moment, but the beast did not. He kept going, so the human had no option but to force his legs to go after him.  
“No.”

The incident with the leash did cross Gladio’s mind, but never for a single second did he dare think about doing that again. Ignis was scary enough without the ‘surprise element’ and Gladio would rather not learn that lesson again.  
With very little verbal interaction, both headed downstairs and towards the gardens.  
Nobody questioned them when they left the outside wall behind. 

\--

They had not gone too far, and did not take long. An hour as maximum. Still, that was enough for Ignis, or so Gladio guessed. A walk on the outside every now and then to stay healthy, even if only for an hour. Even if only ten minutes.

Gladio had taken the spare double-hand sword; even though he doubted there could be any risks of danger, he also could not have himself or Ignis exposed to the smallest possibility of it. Had he gone alone, he would have been fine summoning his own sword, but he could not do that in front of Ignis. So there was no option but to carry with the spare one. It was a bother but not an obstacle across their hour of walking around, looking into bushes and under and on top of a few trees for anything that could be used as ingredient or that was eatable on its own. 

Gladio tended to just punch or bend the tree until it dropped its fruits, but he had found Ignis was not only a sly rogue that sneaked his way around corridors to take you by surprise, he was also a foxlike man that found no troubles on climbing his way up a tree like gravity was a damn joke. He found it a bit amusing, but he was too impressed to laugh, the first time Ignis lost his composure at him about how ‘you don’t hit trees like that, Titan’s blessed feet, what is wrong with you’ and proceeded to run towards the tree, use a foot on the trunk to impulse himself towards the nearest branch and use it to flip onto its top, landing on his feet. Gladio had been about to laugh; this man had not been trained as the prince’s future adviser, this had to be a circus acrobat. But he was pretty impressed and said nothing. Ignis did not seem to be expecting any compliments either; he went straight to look for any fruit he could spot. Being summer, he did not struggle in the task.

That was the only impressive thing of the evening; the rest of their exploring on the field was them poking the head into bushes, collecting Aegir roots, wild onions, among other common ingredients useful for cooking later. Ignis had picked some strange leaves that Gladio had almost pushed off his hands hadn’t the man told him they were great for certain stews. The Shield made a little fun of him but let him take them anyway; the kitchen expert was him, not Gladio, so whatever, he guessed. After having gone around and luckily not spotting any danger nearby and only a few peaceful Garulas pacing by and ignoring them completely on their way, the beast marked a stop to it and ordered Ignis to start going back. Like the time he took him out for hunting, he walked slightly behind the man to always keep him on watch. Ignis did not complain.

There was little conversation shared here and there all across their hour of walking around. There was still competition in some things they talked about, each trying to prove himself better than the other, but there had been no insults or fights. It was…rather peaceful. If not pleasant or enjoyable, it had not been a hell either. Before they got to the castle, Gladio called for ‘Stop’ with a little groan, and announced they could take a small break from walking. Ignis stopped and looked back at him, and only then did he realize where he was.  
They were at the same open field, full of little flowers, that they had stopped at the last time, when they had come hunting. The beginning of a downhill, clear from monsters, with tiny flowers and lively green grass carpeting the ground, and bigger flowers around. 

He could not question or complain to anything when Gladio had already sat down with a lazy groan, resting the sword at his side, the opposite to where Ignis was. The man gave him a bit of a confused look, but eventually sat down as well. He could not help but groan as well; his body ached in basically all spots of it. When he realized how painful it was to do something like just sitting down he came to confirm what he had already thought about; take a break from training, not make it a daily thing just yet. His body was still not prepared to take that.  
He sighed softly once he was sat, trembling slightly at the pain. The beast, thankfully, said nothing about it and only stayed quiet.

Ignis still took a few moments before adjusting his glasses on his nose and looking up. He found the stunning view from last time; the open field before them, beasts roaming free in the distance, and the big lake. The small waterfall, barely seen from their spot. Rock formations, an arch of it. Books had it that Duscae region had impressive, much more massive natural rock arches. Ignis had always wanted to go, but his life had not given him the chance. He sighed softly at the sight of it, tilting the head lightly to a side and resting part of his weight on his hands, almost forgetting on purpose that he was not alone. Not caring about the beast’s presence and only adoring the sight from there. It was different than it was from the windows of the Citadel; sure, from there he could see even more, but this felt _closer_. More real. Tangible. It was like, even if he looked through the open window, it was still like staring at a painting. But from that spot on the hill, with grass under his fingertips, with a small insect flying nearby his face, with a flower by his foot…it felt real.

He kept staring at the distance in total silence…Gladio, on his part, subtly watched _him_. He looked at the terribly sad gleam of the man’s green eyes, and he stared at the tiny, very subtle curve on the edge of his lips. He looked so sad, but not at all at the same time. It was some sort of bittersweet look; maybe some sort of melancholy. Gladio said nothing and kept subtly looking at him. He was aware that as soon as he said something, he would take Ignis from his thoughts and the man, conscious then, would erase that tiny smile from his lips. It was the first time Gladio got to see it, and he did not want it to leave so soon yet. It was strange, Ignis smiling. To see it, that was the strange part of it, the shield corrected. It was new. Three months and almost a week into living together, and he was sure this was the first time he ever saw the man smile.

Gladio stayed quiet, watching him. The sun had started to caress the horizon, and daylight had come to shade everything in a warmer tone. Ignis’ skin did not escape from the new palette of colors. The beast stared at him a little more; he was aware that Ignis was terribly handsome as he was, but that smile, even if so tiny one had to look this close to notice it, gave him a new air. If beauty was natural in him, the calm look gave a great emphasis to it…and a _smile?_. Gods. Not only emphasis, the beauty also _grew_. Sweet gods, it was stunning. Gladio could not help but remember about that awkward snort and tiny laugh. It lasted so little and he hid it most of the time, but Gladio had seen it, even if only a glimpse.  
Gods, was it _beautiful_.

When his thoughts drifted a bit too far away from Gladio’s own comfort, he blinked and looked away to get himself away of his head. He looked again at Ignis and widened a small smile.  
“I’m still not over it, ya know?” Gladio said lowly with an amused smile that was widening. “I can’t believe you laughed.”  
“Why is it such a big issue?” Ignis questioned and, like the beast had already prophesied, now that he was back in full consciousness and away of his thoughts, Ignis’ smile faded on its own. It was strange and a bit scary; it was like the man had programmed himself to frown the entire time, and only when he was distracted by his own head could he smile. Gladio had tagged it at first of uptightness, but now found that to be a little sad, and he wondered if there was any particular reason Ignis trained himself into the art of Not Smiling.  
“I just didn’t think it was possible in you” Gladio said with a little fun in the voice. The man looked at him with a raised eyebrow, expression dead and cold like always. “You’re always frowning and stressing over everything, I thought you literally didn’t have the muscles in your face needed to smile, let alone _laugh._ ”

Ignis had no response and only looked away, again at the horizon, but his attention was still on the beast. Gladio widened his smile at him a little more.  
“Why hadn’t you smiled before?”  
“Well, it’s not like I’ve had any reasons to do that, have I?” Ignis asked but it did not sound as rough as the words themselves were. Gladio laughed lowly and looked away. “Besides, I do have smiled before. Just not to you.”  
“That’s harsh, you know.”  
“In my defense, you had not given me reasons to smile in your presence” Ignis said as if it was an important argument like that of a trial and not just an argue with an acquaintance. Gladio, like the previous statement, only took it with a chuckle and a small snort of laughter, still staring at the distance. 

There was silence afterwards. Both watched the sun very slowly slipping down the ceiling and sinking into the ground. A couple of moments later, Gladio contained a sigh in his chest and blinked once to the distance, soft.  
“You know, Ignis” he called for the human’s attention. Ignis gave it to him, but did not take his eyes off the sight before them. “I know you’re not staying here on free will. And I know I’m not…the best of companions. And I know I’m hideous and I have these horns and fangs and claws…”  
Ignis’ expression and shoulders softened as the other spoke. For a moment, he felt that pinch of guilt inside and his eyes fell to the grass nearby his feet. He tried to subtly look at Gladiolus, but he found himself too ashamed of himself to do that, and did not. 

“But I want you to know” Gladiolus, however, did turn to look at him, “I am not your enemy.” 

Ignis blinked once and lifted the head a bit, processing what he had just heard. As he did, he turned to look at the beast, confused. He looked at Gladiolus with surprised eyes, eyebrows slightly furrowed. The beast was looking back at him very softly but very firmly. The brown eyes, amber under the sunset light, did not move off the human in any moment in the silence that lasted more and more for a couple moments.  
“You can hate me if you wish” Gladio told him as softly as before, “and _you_ can consider me your enemy. Just know that _I_ don’t see you as mine. As my enemy, I mean.”  
The human furrowed the eyebrow even more at that, as if though the beast was speaking in another language and Ignis had no idea how to tell him he could not understand. Gladio gave him a few moments and contained a sigh in his chest.  
“You’re exasperating and stressful sometimes” Gladio told him and nodded softly, slowly. “But you’re not a bad guy. You’re not my enemy. I wouldn’t hurt you. I don’t want to. I…don’t dislike you.”

Ignis looked at him in silence. He looked at the other to the eyes and was not able to come with an answer. The face was all fur, the upwards fangs were impossible to miss, but the eyes were still as terribly human as the first time Ignis ever paid attention to them. Not only in the physical way; the gleam behind them, the way they almost murmured a thousand stories, all the sentiment in them…it was too human. It somehow _hurt_ to look at them.  
Ignis could only look at him in complete silence, a moment that he let carry on for too long. Long enough for Gladiolus to misunderstand; the beast looked away and sighed, before coming up on his feet with a little groan.  
“Well, let’s go; it’s going to be dark soon and I’m not wishing to face any daemon again.”

“Y-yes” Ignis managed to murmur with a slight stutter. Gladio had stretched an arm to offer him a hand to help him up on his feet, but he put it away with a little flinch in it before the man could hold it. Ignis looked at him as if questioning the action, if it had been some prank. The beast looked away as if embarrassed.  
“Sorry” Gladio muttered. “It’s…the claws. Don’t want to hurt you. By accident, I mean. Not on purpose, either, but…” he sighed and the shyness and embarrassment were so big and tangible that Ignis looked away as if he had walked on in somebody naked; that Gladio had put the guard down like this, and not the physical but the _emotional_ one, it was too intimate and Ignis could almost literally not handle it. He did not know how to. Looking almost felt wrong, even if that had no sense. “You…get my point.”

Ignis looked down at the beast’s hand, looking at the almost anxious way it closed and opened like wanting to hide the claws. The human stared at them some moments, thinking about it. He could have said he would not have minded to be offered a hand so Gladiolus would not feel so bad…but, if he was sincere, he _was_ a bit insecure of it. Gladio had admitted to not want to hurt him, but that did not mean he wouldn’t if it happened by accident, like Ignis taking his hand only to have a claw accidentally cutting his forearm. Nobody would have done anything on purpose, but the harm would have been caused anyway. So Ignis said nothing; he was brutally sincere, so he could not lie to the beast and tell him it was fine because it was not; he was insecure and would have rather not accepted to take the paw. But he decided to not tell him that either; that he was coldly honest did not mean he needed to say everything he thought about. He did not want to offend the beast. 

Ignis pulled himself back up on his feet with yet another groan; standing up after spending a while on the same position when sat hurt as much as when he first went down to his buttocks. Definitely, he needed a break from working-out.  
Gladio let him take the lead, like always, and Ignis did so without a word at first. The beast followed behind, carrying the sword against his shoulder. A couple yards into it, Ignis turned to face him.  
“You’ve got enough with the sword” Ignis offered, already stretching one of his gloves hands ahead towards him. “Let me carry the bag, Gladiolus.”  
“Hm…” Gladio’s throat echoed loudly with the sound of doubt, but it was not from the offer. He stretched the arm towards the human, who took the bag while the beast spoke. “You know, ‘Gladiolus’ sounds too harsh, Ignis.”

“What else can I call you?” Ignis questioned very seriously, frowning slightly at him in confusion and a little annoyance. The beast smiled with a little mockery; the man really had no social skills. His confusion was real.  
_He’s not getting the point, this idiot._

He shrugged a shoulder, still smiling.  
“Gladio.”  
At the word, Ignis looked up at him with slightly widened eyes, taken off-guard yet again. He gave the beast a confused look, and the question was pretty explicit on it. Gladio felt a bit shy, but did not want to demonstrate it. He looked away but did not put the head down.  
“I told you; you’re not my enemy” Gladio reminded him. “I give you permission…and I ask that you call me ‘Gladio’, simply. If…you want.”  
Ignis stood frozen in his place. When the beast turned to look at him again, and as soon as he felt his cheeks starting to itch with some burning behind the skin, the man looked down and away.  
“You…don’t have to if…you don’t want, Ignis. Just know you _can_ if you want…”

“No” Ignis said, and the beast had interpreted it a way that ended up being mistaken and corrected when the green eyed looked at him with some mirrored shyness. “It’s fine…uhm…thank you…”  
There was a small pause.  
“…Gladio.”

\--

Later that night, after having taken a bath and waited long enough for _all_ the fur to dry properly before dressing in sleeping pants, Gladio had not picked a book, like usual. He had just laid in bed and had talked long with his sister, always there at nights with him. Iris was a bit weirded at how great her brother’s mood was, and not that he was always grumpy or anything, but he laughed and joked around a bit more than usual, kind of whenever he had a good day. Still, it made her glad to see him as relaxed and happy, so she did not complain or pointed anything out.

Some time went by with them just talking and laughing together. The beast was on his bed, hands behind the head and an ankle resting on the other knee, raised and pointing upwards. After a while, they wished each other goodnight, and Iris requested from the candles to shut themselves down; some of the animated furniture had not been people prior to the curse, but had rather acquired ‘life’ after it. They could not speak and it did not seem to be like they had any particular emotions, but they did as told. The candles of Gladio’s room were an example of that kind of furniture. Iris hopped towards her usual cushion on top of a drawer after having spent a while wandering around during the conversation, and snuggled into it, now in darkness. She saw Gladio’s wolf-like tail swing once, like a happy dog, and it made her curious. She looked up at him and found him still far too awake, eyes open and a smile on his face.

She just sighed and guessed it had to do with Ignis; the man had wished him goodnight. So far all over his stay, and if he ever saw Gladio after taking dinner, he would only say ‘You’re welcome’ to Gladio’s thanks for the food, but that was it. This time, however, he had actually said it. “Good night.” The two words. He did not seem formal even when he did; the way he delivered it felt taken out of etiquette, but the tone of his voice and the almost shy way he said it with made it seem much more sincere. Maybe Gladio had taken it personal and it had made him feel good, and that was why he was so awake, as if still excited, Iris guessed. She only smiled and snuggled again into her cushion, closing the eyes and prepared to sleep.

“He laughed today” Gladio informed and broke the silence. Iris opened the eyes again into the dark and looked at him in silence. She waited some moments to make sure that was the last he would say, but the Shield opened the mouth again. “I hadn’t seen him laugh before….”  
“He’s got a charming laugh” Iris said with a yawn, softly and smiling. She saw her brother’s smile widen a bit, his eyes still fixed entirely on the ceiling. His tail swung again, once. Right when she thought that was a last goodnight this time for real, she closed the eyes again and sighed, prepared to sleep.  
“It was so cute” Gladio murmured after that long silence. Iris could not help but widen the eyes. Even though tired, those words had caught her attention. “And he blushed. He was so embarrassed, the idiot. I was so sure he had no heart, so he had no blood, so he couldn’t blush, but he did today. A tiny bit, it faded real quick. But I saw it. I swear I saw it. And he _laughed._ Iris, it was so strange.”

The tone and voice in which he said that made Iris think that if he replaced that last word by ‘adorable’ it would still work just fine with the same intention of the words. She stayed quiet and blinked a couple times at her brother, eyes wide. He did not notice her, and spoke almost only to himself, smiling at the ceiling, in the darkness.  
“He looks…so good when he’s happy” Gladio insisted, voice low. “I mean, it was only one second, but…” he sighed. “You know, I wasn’t even angry after that. I couldn’t be. It was so…”  
“Cute?” Iris suggested after her brother lingered too long on his silence. The Shield did not reply. A couple of moments into it, he just shrugged, smile growing smaller. She waited, but she earned no reply. 

Guessing this was finally goodnight, she sighed and snuggled into her cushion again. The silence continued, so she found more confidence in finally trying to fall asleep.  
“What else do you think makes him laugh?” of course, Gladio interrupted her attempts of resting again. As accident and not thinking, but still. She opened the eyes again and looked at him with a confused look but a smile nonetheless. “Or smile? I thought he had no sense of humor, but I think…I think he just needed to release a lot of stress only. And that he’s got a strange sense of humor, but he’s got one, so…what do you think makes him laugh?”  
“I don’t know” Iris admitted, eyelids too heavy by now. She yawned and hoped for her brother to not talk again, but there he was, foot dancing on the air.  
“You know, I don’t want him to feel trapped” he said. “I want him to feel…good. I think laughing would do good to him, right?”

Iris yawned and let out a sleepy ‘Uh huh’ of agreement. He kept a sigh in his chest. His expression was soft and calm, like he was not thinking in anything at all. There was nothing again for some moments and his voice softened even more when he dared break the silence.  
“You know…I wouldn’t mind being constantly startled by him…if that makes him laugh.”  
He earned no response but he did not mind. He had almost forgotten he was not alone. His smile was entirely gone, and a small worry took over his expression. It was some sort of small but real fear that made him furrow the eyebrows and stare into the ceiling as if looking for answers. He stayed quiet and reached down to toy nervously but quietly with the Titan rosary he always carried with himself.

“Iris…” Gladio whispered. He sighed very softly, staring down. “…I…want to make him happy.”

Iris replied with a sleepy sound. He turned to her direction and saw her fighting to stay awake, but the eyelids insisting on shutting. He smiled quickly and his eyes went down again.  
“Good night, Moogle Nose” Gladio murmured for his sister, and he heard a little yawn and a stuttered attempt of biding goodnight. He smiled very softly again, even though the curve of his lips was small, and he sighed, turning to face the ceiling again.

He still had a lot to say, but he knew it was rude to keep her awake this long…and he knew that all that he had to tell her was probably best left unsaid. He was not supposed to be feeling like he did; content for having heard a laugh, in the need of making him smile again.  
_He’s my prisoner. Not my friend. Stop thinking this bullshit, Gladio. This is not you._

Gladio tried to relax and rolled onto his side, sighing heavily but as quiet as he could, and tried to shut the eyes. The faster he would sleep, the sooner he would stop having that stupid sensation and those idiotic thoughts, he guessed. 

It took him yet another hour. He could not stop thinking about that laugh, and wondering what else could make it appear again. That awkward, stupid little laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're sticking by, enjoying of it, and not growing bored. Believe it or not, we ARE heading somewhere.
> 
> I have the sensation this chapter feels a bit repetitive on previously seen stuff. Is it?
> 
> This is another bridge; we're now entering Fluff Uphill. Secure your seatbelts.
> 
> Tell me what you think, share the story with others, and enjoy! :)


	14. The Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a small calling to impressionist paintings. I know that's historically a madness. Let's pretend it's not. :p

When Ignis took a day off from his working-out he was thinking about his physical health.  
Never did it cross his head that it would end up causing harm in the heart. Metaphorically, of course.

Ignis could not push his body any further, unless he wanted it to break down. The last he needed being a prisoner under the watch of a beast that could have rage attacks if provoked was to not be able to stand up from his damn bed. Even though he knew that, he also found himself not worrying much. Not in the paranoid levels he used to do; after all, he thought over the days (and especially more after the beast had behaved as nicely that one evening in which both went collecting ingredients), Gladiolus had not had any other of those raging attacks. Of course, there had not been reasons big enough to trigger him into full-beast mode, but he and Ignis still tended to argue from time to time and…no. Ignis had to stop his thoughts in there, because he realized that they really had not argued as much. 

He was not sure about in which moment they had stepped from daily, heated arguing to…nothing. They were not avoiding each other, even though they did not necessarily look for one another either; they did not sit down to drink tea together and conversate on the weather, but they had stopped their daily arguing. And Ignis was not sure of _when_. Of course, he thought after some more time alone in his own head, it most surely did not have to be divided in Section A and Section B, a line marked on the ground that separated Then from Now; it had to be more like a color degrade; you don’t jump from blue straight into red, you’ve got to go through all the shades of purple in between. 

It was a bit of a mess. Ignis found himself thinking too much about the beast’s behavior, and the mere fact that he was thinking about something that, according to himself, did not have to be of his personal concern made him feel like he had to stop the thoughts, but he could not help but insist on bringing the subject at random times in his head. Like his head was not full enough already, now he also spent some time thinking on Gladiolus, comparing the…thing he was when they first met, the completely bestial look in his eyes when he pinned Ignis to the ground at the prison tower’s hallway, the saliva flying around when he roared so, so angered…and the…and the…the _whatever_ he was when he offered to stop pulling pranks on Ignis ‘if they bother you for bad’, when he admitted to know himself hideous, when he stated to not be an enemy. When he stated he would not harm Ignis. Nor wanted to. 

Ignis could not help but feel a little bad; it had lasted only for a few seconds, but back in their small conversation at the top of the downhill Gladio had shown…some insecurity. Ignis had been taught multiple times under multiple scenarios that Gladiolus was a beast but he really _was not_. Yet, it was hard to think of him as a human, even if just on the inside; that he spoke and understood had been enough to prove he was an intelligent creature…but intelligence was different to actually have deep _feelings_. No matter how many times Ignis had been taught Gladio was more than just a fur-covered beast, he still had not fully understood the depth of his being. He was not just intelligent, he could also feel, in the extent of the verb. Now that he had explored and found a bit more of the beast’s attitude, he ended up thinking that it was obvious; if Gladiolus could feel anger, he clearly could feel other things. It was pretty obvious, yet Ignis needed of all those weeks and to see first-hand the way Gladio shied away to realize it.

Insecurity. It was a pretty strange concept, if he tried to see it in Gladiolus. He thought that if he was a strong and tall beast that everyone served around and nobody tried to anger, and as childish and joking as Gladiolus had proven to be, he would have no reasons to feel insecure. He was a strong creature, he had no reasons to feel small in comparison to others, or scared or anything.  
Then again, strength was not equal to confidence.  
Ignis wondered if, under the teen-Garula size, the behemoth strength and the wolf fur there could be a fragile and scared being. The first thought he had was that it was silly and amusing, to think of something as big curling up wrapped in a blanket being read bedtime stories because he’s too scared of lightning. But the thought left soon along with his smile, and a small hint of guilt pinched his inside again; even if it was about a beast, lack of confidence was not something to consider cute or funny. No matter if human, animal, beast…that sort of insecurity was sad, for it usually came from abuse of some type.

He remembered about his now passed cat Flamma. His dad had arrived very late one day; a few hours before his arrival, Ignis heard his mom answering the door and receiving a message that said Caleo would be late because he had found a hurt animal and he had taken it with the veterinary. When his dad arrived, he said the poor cat was majorly injured and would possibly not make it alive, and Ignis remembered his dad saying lowly to his wife that the cat had been ‘tortured with a flame’ and proceeded to curse with bad words on the people who did such terrible things, but he came to shut up when he realized Ignis was eavesdropping on them from the staircase. Ignis was very young, but his great, overdeveloped mind understood the depth of the situation and he treated the cat like it needed to be treated when Caleo brought it home three days later. 

Ignis called her ‘Flamma’ because of her injuries and ‘accident’. His mom had been a bit worried and had said that it was probably not best to use ‘traumatic events like that’ to ironically name something or someone, but Ignis, as young, had said that ‘she survived her injuries; she proved herself stronger than the fire that tried to kill her. I’m not making fun of her, I’m naming her after her victory’. His mother had said nothing and only stared at him with an expression young Ignis, back then, could not read at all; she smiled a bit weirdly at him and agreed on letting him name the cat as he pleased, and left his room.  
The poor cat was very insecure; it took her weeks to grow trust in Ignis. She kept running away and hiding under the bed as far away from his reach as possible, constantly cried, and always had the head down and the tail hidden between the legs in a constant state of fear. And after Ignis had earned her trust with a lot of time and care, she was still insecure of other people, and always ran to shield behind him or snuggle into his arms if anyone else tried to get near her. The poor thing took years to stop being as paranoid and fearful.

When people visited his house, he remembered, they would complain or even make fun of the cat for being so ‘scaredy’ and ‘dumb’. Ignis was always bothered by them but usually stayed quiet, since his attitude had always been that of calm and reserved. He liked to save himself from troubles if he could. But a few times he had dared to open the mouth and with only one sentence of a couple words he had made people either storm out of his house or apologize and grow so embarrassed they left. He used to be nagged by his mother, but Ignis would not regret having said whatever he had said; those people had said or done something stupid to his cat and he wanted to get them back for it.  
_It’s not fair, mum_ , he once admitted. _They call her things and laugh at her for reacting with fear, and they think she’s that way with no reason; they don’t stop one bloody second to think about why she acts like she does. They make fun of her not knowing they’re laughing at the consequences of torture by fire. They’re laughing at a poor creature that only needs comprehension, that has done nothing wrong, that’s suffered through pain. They deserved that. I hope they don’t come back._

It was impossible to forget that day. It had been one of the big lessons of life he learned when young, and one of the times his mother brought his over-growing ego back down by making him realize he was not the only good or smart person in the world. Ignis was always a good kid, but his overdeveloped skills and intelligence, and, while he did not remember, also his personal tutoring by people of the Citadel, had brought his ego a bit too far up before. His parents, mostly his mother, however, tended to bring it back down to healthy levels in lessons that had felt like big slaps on the face. Not that they did not want him to be confident, but one thing was confidence and the other was cockiness. His mother always wanted him to keep the head in the sky but without ever taking the feet off the ground.  
“Precisely” his mother had said, “they have no idea. Instead of calling them what you did and offend them, you could have told them the reason she’s scared. You just humiliated someone for their ignorance, instead of helping them find the light.”

Ignis had been stubborn and tried to convince himself that even if he had tried to explain to those people why his cat behaved like that they still would not care and would not listen. But his mother had talked a bit more to him and had brought down his stubbornness.  
“Not all people are as sympathetic as you are, Ignis. Not all are as understanding. You know what she went through and understand her, but not all people are like you; some people need to be told to understand. Some people who don’t know can’t understand her, and that’s why they make fun of her; there’s people that wouldn’t need to know to understand her, too; and there’s people who would listen but could not understand her anyway, like you say, and they will make fun regardless of the situation, because their hearts are darkened and they feel no sympathy. There’s good people, but there’s bad people too, I don’t deny that. But you’ll never know what kind of people they are if you don’t give them a chance first.” 

She had the reason, Ignis ended up understanding. He had learned many things from the events; that not everyone is like him, that before insulting someone he could try to enlighten their mistakes so they can correct them themselves, that people tend to judge by what they see way too quickly, that sometimes what we see in someone is never only a detail; everything had a greater context behind.  
He understood, thanks to his cat and his parents and the events around the little pet, that insecurity is not born from thin air; there’s always a reason to it. Sometimes it’s something small, like feeling insecure about meeting someone new due to the fear that they will laugh at you, or something big, like not being able to get close to others due to fear of being put through fire again. But there was always a _why_ , for smaller it would be. That other people laughed at his cat for her reactions had made him realize that everything has a reason, a meaning, a why behind it, and sometimes understanding or learning it could change the first impression, sometimes on a totality. One could laugh at his cat for being so jumpy, but learning the Why could make the same person cry for having once laughed. Or not; but, like his mother said, one could never know until been given the chance. 

Ignis related his story to his current situation with Gladiolus, which was what made him remember about it in the first place.  
All that he remembered about the issues with his cat, all he could relate to Gladiolus.

He was certain that the situation was the same; whether it was a person, an animal, or a beast in a castle, insecurity always had a reason. He wondered a lot of things and his mind drifted in many directions, but all staying in the same scheme; Gladiolus and whether he had a much deeper story than the very little Ignis knew from him. What could be the reason Gladio was insecure of himself? Could he have hurt somebody else in the past and that was why he had put the hand away with the excuse that he did not want to accidentally hurt him? Ignis discarded that thought; from what he remembered and could tell, Gladio had not had human contact before. Or had he? He knew that Gladio’s behavior changed along the curse, but he had no idea if he had known someone before it. How _old_ was he? Was he…’born’ along the curse? That was not the point, his head was drifting other ways. So, main point, why was Gladio insecure of himself? Or was he? Maybe Ignis had just confused a little moment of shyness with self-confidence, and it was no big deal.

Or maybe it was a personal thing…maybe Ignis was the first person he interacted with, and Gladio was scared of scaring him.

 _She attacks you because you scare her; she was put through torture, of course she’s going to claw you if you try to grab her like that, you idiot!_  
His cat attacking was just self-defense because she could not handle her anxiety, and nobody understood…  
_People judge the way she behaves, not understanding she’s got reasons for that._  
Maybe Ignis was not so different from people as he believed…

_Don’t yell at her! That’s not how you deal with an insecure creature!_  
_’Then how do I?_  
_Isn’t it obvious? You have to be…_

Soft. You have to be soft. And understanding.  
You have to be very soft and understanding with them.

 

Ignis ended up groaning into his pillow. He was confused and overthinking.

 

Overthinking. That was what brought him to sadness.

The first to find out for sure had been Noctis. The clock was a bit worried because Ignis spent two days doing basically nothing at all, so he went to look for him and see if there was anything wrong. He found Ignis sat at a chair in a living room, doing nothing but lazily flip the pages of a book that he very clearly was not reading. The clock looked at him for some moments; the man had not noticed him, which was just another matter of worry; his sharp senses tended to let him know when somebody was at the door, even if it was tiny Noctis. That he showed no reaction to the clock’s arrival, louder than usual as he had ridden on messy-walking and happy-panting Umbra, meant he was very distracted. Which, in Ignis, was not a normal thing.

Noctis made his way off Umbra and he petted one of his legs, thanking him. The dog barked at him and started taking his leave. When the clock turned, he found that the human had reacted to the bark, and was looking his way. Ignis gave him a slightly forced smile for a moment and then looked back down at the book.  
“Noctis” he greeted quietly. “How may I help you?”  
“I uh, it’s nothing” the clock said and waddled his way towards the small living area the man had made himself comfortable at. “I just…wanted to see you, that’s all.”  
“I thank your attention, Noctis” Ignis said softly while watching the other make his way there, and, once he was nearby, Ignis offered; “do you want me to take you onto the table or somewhere else?”  
“The table is fine, yeah” the other replied with a small sigh of the effort from walking, which was more like laziness if he had to be honest, and stayed still while the man reached down for him and gently put him on the small table. “Cool. So, uh…what’re you doing, Specs?”

“Not much” Ignis replied casually. “Reading.”  
“Uh…” Noctis nodded slowly, staring at the book in the man’s hands and reading the title. “It didn’t seem much like you were reading, though. Not like I-…I am not spying you. You just didn’t look like you were reading it, y’know” Ignis did not show signs to be taken off-guard or anything; he simply stared at the clock like they were in a casual conversation on the weather. “You okay, Specs?”  
“Very okay, Noctis” Ignis replied with a tiny nod, resting the side of his head against the knuckles of one of his hands. “I’m grateful for your concern.”  
The clock sighed heavily in a way that made Ignis blink and caused his tiny, almost unnoticeable smile to fade.  
“You know what, Ignis?” Noctis started. “I’m not gonna ask you over and over how are you so you tell me, because you’re clearly not doing that. So, straight to the point; what’s the matter, Specs?”

Ignis gave him slightly widened eyes and silence for a moment.  
It would be unnecessary to tell the entire interaction; it took Noctis an hour of talking Ignis into admitting there was something wrong. Even though he had noticed it in other aspects and events, like the time he was too weak to move but still crawled his way towards the clock to keep him company when Noctis lied and said he could not sleep (back during Ignis’ tower captivity), Noctis only confirmed in those moments that Ignis was the most selfless person on Eos. But that was not necessarily a compliment; indeed, the clock had found that Ignis was so selfless he was almost past the line of how healthy that could be. He cared far too much for all the other people, and not that it was bad, but to forget about oneself was dangerous and not healthy. Ignis had reached a point of selflessness in life that he preferred to save the life of the beast captor that almost had him killed three or four times instead of going home. 

It took Noctis that hour of talking and silences in between to make Ignis admit there was something wrong; the selflessness caused him to shut himself up and bottle it all up because he ‘did not want to be a bother’ or because it was ‘no major concern’ or because it made him feel silly and ‘like a child’. Discussing and dissuading the way only a king knew how to do, however, Noctis managed to bring it all out of him. Or at least the main parts.  
Ignis was still sat at the big, comfortable chair, the legs crossed, an elbow to an arm of the chair, and the temple resting against a hand. Noctis, standing at the table in front of him, kept the hands behind himself, and the lazy but big blue eyes up on him, the only sound interrupting for a moment being the constant Tick-Tock of his needles.  
“I’ve been overthinking” Ignis told him, voice a bit lower than usual. Noctis stayed quiet, watching him with what anyone else would have tagged as extreme seriousness or plan disinterest. “Yesterday, with the day off from training, I had nothing else to do. I’ve read all the books I’ve found, and I’ve explored most of rooms I’m allowed to. I could have distracted myself cleaning one of the thousand rooms I’ve found, but the point was on doing no unnecessary physical effort. So, with nothing to do…”

Noctis nodded at him to encourage him, still quiet. Ignis gave him a smile that almost felt _apologetic_. Like Ignis really felt this was dumb and a bother. Still, the clock looked at him until he spoke again, the man’s eyes down in embarrassment.  
“It’s quite pathetic and dumb, but with so little to entertain myself in, I…could only think. But I have so much time in my hands, I kept thinking until I started abusing of it. I overthought. One thing led to something else, and I…”  
Ignis stayed quiet and his eyes and shoulders dropped after that. The clock felt a bit bad; that the man was opening up was one complicated-to-get achievement, so to watch him struggling with what he said was quite a saddening view. Still, the secret king said nothing and waited, patient.  
“My apologies, Noctis” Ignis murmured, turning to look at him and gifting him a sad smile, almost a little grin, but the water-covered eyes did not go unnoticed. “I do not mean to bother you with those…overdramatic, silly thoughts of mine…”  
“Ignis, I already told you enough times” Noctis nagged at him, but the voice, while firm, did not go too loud; “you’re everything but a bother, and your thoughts are not silly or dramatic. I’ll get pretty mad if you keep avoiding the subject, you heard?”

The human stared at him some moments and then could not help the grin this time along a tiny snort.  
“I heard” Ignis agreed in a murmur. He gifted Noctis a little grin again and proceeded to put the head down. There was silence and the clock understood, giving Ignis time to breathe for a moment, contain a sigh in his chest, blink, and eventually build courage enough to talk. “I was…thinking about my mother…and that was fine, I have made my peace with her memory…but…” there were quiet moments again. The tick-tock counted to twenty-three before the man spoke again, this time the voice clearly threatening to break if he was not careful enough. “But her memory…brought me to thinking about my father…”

The quiet again. The air tensed on them. Noctis stayed quiet, not having moved a single inch from his position if it was not to swing the arms at times or changes his weight from a foot to the other. The needles continued their constant ticking.  
“It’s been a little more than three months already, you’re aware” Ignis continued, with a soft sigh. “Back in the tower, I had the security that my death was imminent. And…on my thoughts during the agony, I had the security that my father would pass as well” he made a little pause to close the eyes for a moment. “I had meant to save him from the pain and torture I thought there was to be, but I…it may sound a bit crude, but I always had the security that we were going to pass; I from either starvation or murder, and my father from the shock of the news of my death” he chuckled bitterly in this part and opened the eyes again, but he kept the head down, eyes on the book that still rested on his lap. “I believed he would not even need to see or be told; the mere fact that I stayed behind would be all hint that he needed to know of my destiny.”

The needles took the spotlight again, marking the passing seconds. None of them paid much attention to it. After a while, Ignis looked up but not to the clock, rather to nothing on the table by Noctis’ feet.  
“Perhaps that’s what happened” Ignis murmured, eyes still gleaming but face still clean. “He has no idea of my wellbeing. I’m wandering around the castle and playing around like a curious kchild while my father may already have died from the false idea that I’m dead. And I’m…” there was a pause following those last words. The man closed the eyes and moved a hand up to take his glasses off. Noctis watched him caress his temples with a hand, but he never dropped a single tear. He let go of his head and opened the eyes again, glasses still in a hand. “Forgive me, Noctis. I may be overreacting, which would be a plausible consequence of overthinking. Which I’ve done. With frequency.” 

“Heh, your head’s pretty full, huh?” the clock called with a little sigh and a shrug. “Man. It’s pretty bad. Must suck to be you.”  
Ignis smiled very slightly at the reply. He liked the clock’s passive-aggressiveness and understood it. He had learned that Noctis did not literally mean to say what he said and instead hid other things behind his words. Like he was a bit scared of opening up to anyone. Even if he had gotten to the point of trust of calling him a nickname.  
None of them said a word after that. Even though Noctis knew that Ignis could understand he did not mean to be aggressive and tended to figure what he really meant, he also knew that this probably was not the moment. Ignis was in some kind of break-down; he had yet not cried, not once during all his stay at the castle, but it was maybe exactly that, that he was maybe bottling things up, why he had been on this come-and-go of emotions; he had been at the edge of breaking back in the tower, then he was fine, broke down again the night of daemons and intruders, turned to being alright, and now it was happening again. 

It could sound tiring…but truth is, Noctis understood, far more than anyone would probably believe in him, what with the snappy, passive-aggressive attitude. So he understood when it was fine to joke and when not.  
“I once had a dad, too” Noctis heard himself say, both after thinking whether to say it or not and after not thinking as well. Ignis looked at him, curious. Noctis looked up at him for one second only, wishing he had not just screwed up. “You know…as in…”  
“As in a clockmaker?” Ignis suggested, still curious. Noctis was sure that, was he biologic and human, his face would have turned red.  
“Uhm…yeah” he lied. It was an innocent lie that affected no one in no way, so he simply went by it, so the story could have some sense to Ignis, still oblivious to this being the once-prince talking about his father, king only five years prior to this conversation. “He was usually very busy…with…work. I barely had chances to spend some time with him.”

Ignis nodded, slow, not looking at those huge blue eyes anymore and again at the clock’s feet.  
“…but I loved him, like you love yours.”  
The human looked up again. Noctis seemed to have gotten a bit upset; he tried to frown as if to prove the situation was no big deal to him, but the sadness was there in him anyway. Uncontrollably. Ignis slowly put the eyes down again, realizing this.  
“When…the curse happened, I lost him, and didn’t have a chance to say a proper goodbye” Noctis continued. His voice, despite his slight frown, stayed firm and alright. “I realized, only when that happened, how damn stupid I was for not spending more time with him when I could. And I realized that if I would have had the chance, I would have wanted to be there when he died. Not to _see_ him die…rather, to be able to look at him for as long as he was still alive. If I didn’t deserve talking to him a last time, I wished I could at least have _seen_ him. If nobody could save him from dying, if nothing could avoid it from happening, then the least I wished for was to at least have been nearby when it happened…so I could have had gotten to spend a little more minutes with him, even if we said nothing. So I could have been with him for a last time, even if only one second.”

Ignis had not realized when, but by that point, his eyes were fully covered by tears that clouded his gaze and did not allow him to see anything. It would be a lie to say he fully understood what Noctis was saying, since it did not make much sense to him and there was missing information. But, whatever Noctis was talking about, it was real. There was a son way of speaking about his father that felt intimate and personal. It did not sound made up, not even for a second. And to identify himself in the story, mostly in the last bit, brought Ignis to get the extremely watery eyes and that stupid huge knot in his throat, so big and strong he needed to part the lips to subtly breathe in and not gag with it.  
“I think that it wouldn’t be fair if something happened to your dad while you’re away and nobody tells you” Noctis said after a pause, looking back up at the human, but Ignis did not look back at him or showed reaction to have heard, even though it was clear he did. “Think what you will, but I don’t think you’re overreacting. People with the biggest hearts tend to be the most receptive to sadness in return, so it’s only obvious you’re gonna be severely down in the dumps, you idiot.”

The man turned to look at him with a little surprise. It was not much of a Noctis thing to do, open up like that. He tended to look ways around what he said and delivered it other ways; to be direct in ‘cheesy things’, even if only in a few couple sentences, was new to Ignis. The clock, like usual, had that disinterest look on his face, like they were talking the weather or mathematics. A couple of moments later, Noctis shrugged slightly at him, eyes moving to a side.  
“You take your time, Specs.”  
Ignis looked at him still for some more seconds, seeing the clock reaching a hand up to move away a needle when it finally reached up to one of his eyes and obstructed its sight. He never had the correct hour set.  
“Thank you, Noct” Ignis smiled at him. The tears had faded without ever dropping a single one. 

Even though he had smiled at him, he found it a bit off when Noctis chuckled and smirked while still staring away. Ignis gave him a curious look.  
“What is it?” he asked. Noctis turned to look at him, with normally open eyes instead of the half-lidded ones. His height and that sincerely happy look reminded Ignis of a little child in times of winter celebrations.  
“First time you call me ‘Noct’” the clock said with a smile. Ignis blinked at him and spent a few seconds in his head, rewinding the previous moments as if he had not realized until only now what he had done. He closed the eyes softly for a moment and stared down, but he kept a small smile curving his lips.  
“I hope it is not a matter of discomfort for you” Ignis said, finally with the mind a bit occupied, and grateful for it. 

“It’s not” Noctis said and happily smiled at him.

\--

Gladio had seen the human even less than usual. It was already a bit strange they crossed ways besides breakfast and dinner, but the past two days the castle had been even quieter than usual. Or, well, what had become usual, now with Ignis living in it. And not that the man was especially noisy; indeed, he was everything but that. But with his arrival, the furniture had been particularly curious on him, and tended to follow him places, the usual quintet as the greatest example. Besides, Ignis had been poking his nose around the place, and now that he had started to use the training hall, there was a constant come and go of both the human and the furniture that followed him around everywhere (even if only to watch him from afar). But the previous two days and this one, there had been a little more of silence than usual. 

The Shield had been attentive to the times Ignis decided to take the training hall to himself, and had come to notice that, like expected, he had set a specific hour for it. The least that Gladio wanted was for Ignis to see him shirtless (he still could not forget about that night when Ignis healed his arm, when he had stood shirtless for some moments; Ignis had not particularly stared and the room had been dark, so there had been no reasons to be ashamed or embarrassed. And still, Gladio still felt his face burn when he thought of the moment. He did not want to look monstrous to Ignis, not more than the human already could see), and it was not like he was particularly into the idea of working out in the same place and at the same time Ignis did. So, thanks but no, Gladio preferred to know when the human would use it and when he would be done so the Shield could use it either before or after him.

That day, Ignis had gone to the training hall after two of resting, but he had taken only half the time he usually did. Gladio had found it odd but he decided not to give too much depth to the thought; maybe the man was still exhausted and did not want to tire his body to unhealthy limits. Still, Gladio failed to fully convince himself. Something felt odd…about Ignis, about the quiet of the castle.  
It was Prompto who came to him that evening, worried, carrying with a request that made Gladio feel rather nervous; _’can you come see Ignis?’_ Gladio had no reason to feel nervous, he reminded to himself. Still, he could only put the head slightly down and feel tickles in the paws of his hands at the thought, and he nodded, rather shy. The candelabra did not seem to consider it out of the ordinary or special, and he simply started heading back from where he came from, and the Shield followed behind. It was a walk across quite a number of hallways, and, as they approached a certain room, Prompto slowed down and started waddling, on his equivalent of “going on tip-toes”. Gladio, as well, softened his steps.

Prompto turned around to request silence from him; he had not explained what kind of ‘come see Ignis’ it was; it could have had been ‘can you please attend him, he’s sick’ or ‘can you please see him, he passed out’, or this, ‘can you please come spy him with me’. Both approached the door as quiet as both could be, and soon they looked at the inside of the room.  
It was yet another living-room of sorts. It was pretty dirty; Ignis’ obsessive hands had not gone through it. But little did Gladio pay attention to it; the first thing to come to sight was the human, sat at the interior windowsill, arranged as a comfortable sofa of sorts. His body was half-sat half-lying on it, and his arms rested on the upper part. He, just like Gladio, was wearing a cape, the kind to stay warm in cold weather rather than the useless ones for formality, so it could hide all his body underneath, like he was literally using it as a blanket. He was but a shadow staring out the window, offering his back to the door. Outside, rain fell strong enough to make it ‘impossible’ to enjoy a day out, but not enough to become especially scary or loud. The rainy season had been going on for a short while, and Ignis had stared out windows multiple times, and Gladio had seen him before; sometimes, the man had a cup of tea or, more frequently, coffee (thank the heavens Noctis and Prompto bought more in their illegal escape to the market; Ignis had gone one day without it and he had been especially moody. Gladio had avoided him all day when he noticed). 

All the times he had found Ignis staring out windows when it rained, and even when not, it had been a soft image. The man looked thoughtful. Like an ancient Lucian statue of philosophers, but young and beautiful and alive.  
Gladio shook the head subtly at the thought, closing the eyes.  
This time, however, Ignis looked…rather miserable. It could be the fact that he had not lit any light in the room, or that the cape made him look smaller (as in skinnier) or that he was offering his back and not his side like usual, or that he was half-thrown instead of sat or standing. Or maybe the way his head leaned to a side onto his arm, like he was sleeping. Or the fact that his cup of coffee stayed untouched, full and cool at a side, like he had not noticed it was there. But _something_ made this picture feel…wrong. Gladio frowned slightly while watching him from the opened door; it was like being used to see the usually pastel-colorful but not whiny impressionist paintings and suddenly find a painting by the same author and the same era but it’s a grey and badly done doodle. This was not correct; the color was missing, the softness, the art. This was a dull attempt of a corpse, not a breathing creature. 

“He’s been like this all evening since he left the training room” Prompto whispered up at Gladio, and even though it would have been audible even if unintelligible due to the distance, Ignis still would have heard somebody whispered. Yet, he seemed to show no reaction. The Shield wondered if he really was not sleeping. “He hasn’t wanted to speak with anyone. What do we do? He looks so sad…”  
“Again?” Gladio whispered back. “I thought Noct was overreacting when he said Ignis was sad, and now you too…Now why? He doesn’t have reasons?”  
“He hasn’t wanted to tell me” the candelabra shrugged. “He insists he’s fine. But he’s clearly not. Gladio…do you think you could…I don’t know, talk with him or something?”  
“Me?” Gladio asked and frowned, rather in confusion and disbelief than anger. “I’m possibly the last thing on the planet he’d trust or want to see. Why should I?”  
“I-I don’t know” Prompto stared down as if embarrassed. “I thought…since you two went out again to the open field…and since you two are behaving so good with each other lately…”  
“Good?” Gladio asked and let out a little ‘Pfft’ afterwards. “We’re only being formal…”

Prompto frowned up at him, like a child in tantrum, but one coming from a serious matter and not a ‘childish’ thing.  
“Well, then go and ‘formally’ speak with him” the candelabra ordered. Despite his size and usual chickening out from Gladio, it had been an order. The Shield both liked and hated it. “You’re his host, right? And he’s your guest, right? And he’s upset, so it’s your duty to go and at least ask what’s wrong.”  
“Why should I?” Gladio asked him as if in a dare.  
“Why shouldn’t you?” Prompto asked back. “Do you want him to be sad?”

Gladio’s heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question, and he opened the eyes a bit more than usual.  
_Iris…I…want to make him happy._

He had said it. He had said that. As cheesy, as strange, as improper in their context, he _had_ said it and he could not deny it. He had tried to be good with Ignis, at least not bother him anymore. But he had not tried to do _something_. To avoid him so Ignis could be comfortable, to keep jokes and nicknames not to upset him, that was to not make him uncomfortable, but had done nothing to make him more comfortable.  
_’Do you want him to be sad?’_  
The total opposite of what he had told his sister. Still, wanting to make him happy was one thing, and not wanting him to be sad was different. Right? Or was it…the same? Because it sounded different. Way much more different.  
So much more…improper. 

A tiny groan echoed lowly in Gladio’s throat.  
“Fine” was all that he said before he started making his way into the room, this time without tip-toeing. Prompto stayed by the door, half-hidden behind the frame, and watched, attentive. A few steps away of the man, Ignis moved the head up and turned a bit in a snap, as if only now hearing and sensing the other’s presence. Which was not a lie at all.  
Ignis looked at him for a moment, and when recognition came to his eyes he looked away, softly this time, down. It lasted very briefly, but Gladio stopped walking when he saw the man to the eyes. They had a strange look to them…a heart-touching but definitely not enjoyable sparkle to them that Gladio remembered immediately from that night when Ignis gave his freedom up on own will. Even without looking at his eyes, the man’s expression looked even a bit…off. He tended to show himself proud and uptight in Gladio’s presence, but right now he could only stay there, uninterested and looking down. 

The beast took only some moments and forced himself not to stay quiet for this long.  
“Hey” Gladio greeted and he, in the speed of light, went through a list of a million options to start a conversation without becoming awkward or improper. “Haven’t seen or heard you ‘round like usual. You hiding?”  
“We could say that” Ignis responded, turning to the window again. Instead of the limp position he had had before, he was not sat almost completely straight. Tensed. Gladio tried to not take it personal.  
“Uh huh” Gladio nodded slowly, heading to sit at a nearby chair. “What from?”  
“…nothing in particular” Ignis replied. The beast nodded yet again and stared away. When his eyes came to the door, he found Prompto still there; the candelabra shied away when he found the beast spotting him, but returned to keep staring for a moment, nodding at him to encourage him from afar. Gladio sighed and looked away from him.  
“So, how was training today?” Gladio tried to come with a way to make him speak, but it was harder than he thought, and he felt stupid. Ignis shrugged as reply and there was a pause. “Not very talkative today, huh?”  
“Not ever, to be sincere” Ignis, yet again, avoided any subject that wanted to be touched.

Gladio nodded at him, slow, yet again. There was a little silence.  
“So” Gladio said as if casually. “Haven’t seen or heard you do anything at all. What’ve you been doing?”  
“…nothing in particular” it was almost a murmur. The conversation was repeating itself. The man reached to rest the arms again against the windowsill, and his chin on them. Gladio, from his angle, still could see his profile, or most of it. The little light that made it through the clouds and rain was more than enough to enlighten most of Ignis’ figure. It was almost like a painting, a beautiful one in chiaroscuro, and Gladio found himself staring.  
“Why?” Gladio asked him with half the head still lost in staring.  
“I’ve been…rather…unoccupied…” Ignis admitted and kept the eyes on the window. He did not seem to be fully there in his senses. There was a pause.  
“Is that what’s got you so sad?” Gladio said, but the man offered no reaction, like there was no escaping so no reason to hide or lie about it anymore. “That you’ve got nothing to do? Pscht. What a stupidity. Entertain yourself with something and problem solved.”

“Believe me, I would if I could” Ignis snapped at him, but the voice stayed rather low. Gladio paid attention. “I’d do anything so long my head could stop…” the pause he made sounded like he had cut his words halfway and had left the idea incomplete. Ignis sighed and closed the eyes, reaching a hand to take his glasses off for a moment. Gladio said nothing and waited for him. “My apologies. I have…I may be…” Ignis interrupted himself yet again and he put his glasses back on. “I do thank your concern, badly handled, by the way, but I will request that you leave me alone, if you can be as polite. I’m a bit troubled right now, and I have no desires of talking.”  
“What’s got you so troubled, though?” Gladio asked him. The man turned to look at him only for a moment, with a slight but serious frown. The beast kept the eyes on him, with an unreadable, blank expression. “Being bored? That’s a stupidity. Why not just pick a book? You can never get bored if you’ve got a book.”

There was a small silence. Only rain hitting the window broke it, like Noctis’ needles but louder and with higher frequency. Like a hundred clock needles, all set at different, non-patterned times.  
“I’ve…read them all” Ignis murmured, and Gladio had to subtly lean closer to hear him at how low it had been. He saw, as well, the way Ignis’ eyes moved down. The man looked pathetic; pathetically down in the dumps. So sad it was almost tangible, a bad thing for Ignis, who tried so hard to pretend to be fine. Gladio’s eyebrows shrugged softly and he felt something in the entrails that he did not like. It made him feel a bit cold on the inside and a bit weakened. One of Ignis’ finger toyed a bit with his sleeve without moving up from its place. “There’s not many books scattered in the castle. I’ve searched. In the places I’m allowed in, of course” he made a pause, and Gladio found himself hating the way he was speaking; so quiet, even more than usual, and in separate phrases. Ignis was not thinking his words forehand like he always did. “I searched for all books. It turns out there’s only five. I’ve already read them all, twice. Being a quick reader helps not when the material is so scarce…partly my fault, then. So I can really not complain…”

None said a word. Gladio looked at the man, staring down and still half-hiding his face in his arms, like a child that just lost his pet. The beast turned to the door; Prompto was still there, but a bit more hidden. He offered nothing but a sad glance. Gladio looked again at the man, still quiet. Rain still fell on the outside, steady rhythm to it. Ignis’ eyes stayed down, the air to himself comparable to the same temperature of the water of the outside.  
The beast moved a hand up to scratch under his chin. His claws scratched a bit more across the neck, and some moments went by in silence.

He was hating the way Ignis looked and the air around him. Alright, maybe the guy was not rainbows and laughter in every corner, but he was not one to be like this either, so gloomy and exhausted. Gladio frowned for a moment; he would rather see the uptight and exasperating man that kept sassing him around than this dead thing. It did not feel right, for Ignis to be like this. And Gladio was desperately hating it.

_I want to make him happy._

Gladio still stayed quiet and closed the eyes for a moment. He thought it for a moment, resting the head against a fist. He let a couple more moments pass, before he sighed almost in complete defeat, even when the enemy had only been himself. He had decided.  
“Well” the beast said with a little groan of normal effort as he stood from the chair. “Sucks to be you.”  
Ignis did not turn to look at him, like he was completely ignoring him this time. The beast stood there behind him some moments.  
“I’m leaving; can’t stand all this drama” Gladio said. “But you should come with me. You could find something interesting.”  
“I wouldn’t want to gloom you with all this drama” Ignis muttered, not looking back at him. “I can stay here, thank you.”

“Fine” Gladio sighed. “Just wanted to show you a room you haven’t be to before. Thought you’d find it interesting, but if you insist…”

Ignis lifted the head and softly turned to look at him. His eyes, while still a bit sad, looked at the beast with doubt. Gladio did not break eye contact so Ignis could know he was not lying or trying to pull a prank on him. The man furrowed lightly the eyebrows, still as if suspecting, and gave him a stare.  
“Whatever it is” Ignis sighed softly and started standing up, “it’s most possibly not enough to distract me for more than a day, I’m afraid.”

Gladio gave a short laugh.  
“We’ll see.”

Quietly, Ignis followed behind him, and there were only a few phrases shared here and there during the way.  
Prompto, unseen by the man, looked at them almost in awe; Gladio had had success. Noctis approached from somewhere in silence, and both rode on Umbra to secretly follow the other two.  
And, when they saw where they were heading, they shared wide, huge eyes and dropped jaws of disbelief.

They _had_ to see that themselves to believe Gladio was really letting him _there_.

\--

Ignis slowed down as they got closer to what apparently was their destination, surprised if he had to admit. The dual doors at the end of the corridor they were walking through were almost enormous, much bigger than any door Ignis had seen in the castle so far. They were black with golden decorations and almost reached the roof, which was pretty high on its own. Ignis slowed down until stopping on his spot, the head moving back to look at the wide, large doors. The decoration was _stunning_. No matter how many decorations he had seen so far, the architecture and design of the Citadel had yet not stopped to impress him.  
“You’re coming or not?” the voice of the beast interrupted his admiring moments and made him look away of the doors and down to Gladiolus. Even he looked small in comparison to the doors. 

Ignis approached him in silence until standing nearby him and stopping again. Now standing, the cape looked almost like a robe, hiding arms and most of the body behind the dark red cloth. Gladio’s cape was intended for the cold weather as well, and while it was made to fit precisely him, it still looked a little small on him. Maybe it was only out of comparing, seen as Ignis’ body, slender, was almost fully covered as in a wizard disguise, and Gladio, bulkier and tougher underneath his own, made it look like what it really was; a cape.  
“So?” Ignis asked after a moment in which the beast only looked at him with a childish smile. “I swear to the Astrals that if this is an attempt of pulling a prank on me-”  
“Geez, calm down” Gladio said and put the hands on the doors. “You’re going to like it, don’t be so impatient.”  
The man only rolled the eyes at him, and stayed quiet, a bit annoyed, while the beast started pushing the doors. It did not take him any great effort; despite their size, they seemed to be light and to be working perfectly, so it would have not given troubles even to Ignis himself, even though he would have had opened only one of the doors instead of pushing both open. Unnecessary effort, he believed. Then again, maybe it was more comfortable for the beast to just push both open at once, due to size and strength, so the man offered no arguing. 

He stared at the beast with a little suspicion when Gladio walked in before him and not turning or waiting for him. Ignis only followed behind into the dark room, and heard the beast calling for the lights to turn on. It was not especially late, but the sky was fully covered in dark clouds and made it seem like early night inside, despite the huge size of the windows on the opposite wall to that of the doors.  
That was, of course, until the lights came on and lit the room like it was a sunny day outside. 

If Ignis had been amazed by the doors, it could not compare to this for a single moment. 

The man slowed and stopped in his place when he looked at his surroundings. His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped at the time he took in a gasp that made his chest swell, before his lungs decided to forget how they worked. He looked at the giant shelf, full of clean books, that was ahead and behind the beast. And the one on the next floor above. And another in a third floor. And a fourth. And a fifth. And each of the shelves was flanked by another pair, as big and as full to the top of arranged books. And each shelve that was flanking the first ones was followed by yet another pair, and another, and another. Ignis looked up first at the ridiculous height of the room, and he slowly started looking to a side to see where the rows of shelves ended, but they continued until reaching the far corner of the long room, and even there they continued onto the next wall.

This was the castle’s library. Ignis was in a real royal library.

Still looking for the end of the shelves, Ignis, very slowly and without noticing, turned over himself, eyes still scanning the endless row that continued even to the wall on his back. The row was interrupted by the doors, but there were shelves also past them, on the other side.  
Mouth still opened and eyes wide, he let out a shaky breath out of instinct when his body could not stand longer without breathing. His lungs recovered themselves with some struggles; it was impossible to catch the breath as easily. His feet still had him turning over himself while his eyes continued their way, looking at the fully covered walls, ridiculously long set of stairs to reach the ones too high up for a person to reach, and more and more books. He continued looking for the end of the shelves when he found himself looking at the starting point; like a circle, no ending and no start. His mouth curved into a smile, but he was still unable to close it, and a tiny chuckle of disbelief escaped him. He moved a hand up to hold his own neck as if to caress it and he kept looking, one more time. 

This was ridiculous. He knew the world had an uncountable number of books, but to see this quantity first hand was…shocking. All the books of Northern Insomnia, proud owner of the biggest library of the Insomnian towns, could fill only sixty of the shelves there…and in the place where Ignis was standing there were five wide and large floors of only shelf after shelf, much more than just sixty, way too much more than a hundred, possibly even more than a thousand. It was impossible to count. Impossible to understand. This had to be the biggest collection any king or castle could possibly ever have owned in all of Eos and in all its history. There were staircases, and doors to a second section of the library, which mean there was yet another room as big as the one he was in as filled of as many books. This was almost a building all on its own, full to the top of books and more books and more and more books.  
This was too much.

He felt his knees weakened, and he was a bit scared of moving anywhere, so he did not for fear of falling down. He looked back to the low level after having stared at the floors above, and he found even more books; walls covered in shelves, but definitely many books scattered on tables, piled up. There were large and wide sofas and chairs in exchange of shelves, cushions on them, chaise lounges, daybeds, everything perfect to find your favorite spot and be extremely, ridiculously, royally comfortable for a long, eternal evening of reading in the quiet and peace. There were candelabras, apparently unanimated, in case there was no one to light the chandeliers of the room. The chandeliers; Ignis looked up to find them one more time. Immense golden and black chandeliers, decorated and lit, worth of the most honorable royal palace in all of Eos. Ignis let another chuckle of disbelief and great excitement out, still unable to close the mouth, and the hand on his neck moved down to his chest for a moment before it went up to push his hair back and tangle in it. 

There were decorations, a fireplace that was protected not to cause any harm to the books, globes, tables and desks to work at, a pair of astrolabes nearby, tools of men and women of science and academy, for researchers and the studious. There were quills, paper, ink, drawing tools, rulers, compasses, a couple small chalkboards and chalks. There was a chess board on a table, as well. On his second staring around he found that not all shelves had books, but there were also a few that contained what looked like scrolls piled up. Ignis stared at the library and all its content, amazed.

Gladio, on his part, looked only at him.

The beast smiled very slightly, almost without noticing, at the man’s awe and complete disbelief. He was sure he had never seen Ignis smile for so long, even when it was full of amazement and even if it took him far too long to shut the mouth, even though his lips stayed parted in some sort of tiny grin. He looked like a child seeing snow for the first time. Gladio watched him ever since he first froze and went pale at the sight in front of him, watched him on his first turning over his own heels, and he kept staring on his second go at it. It took minutes…but the beast did not look away from him. It was so new to him, so terribly new…to see Ignis smile, see him do something else than just frown or look down in failed-to-hide sadness.  
_He looks so stupid_ , Gladio thought with an amused smile, but the eyes stared with warmth on contrast. _And so happy…_

Noctis and Prompto had followed closely but stopped by the door, watching with wide eyes. The event had brought other furniture nearby as well, and they all cheekily spied from the doorframe, eyes wide. Iris had gone there as well as soon as she heard the rumor, and stood with almost a terrified look, but none said or did anything other than watch how the scene developed, all of them in complete surprise and almost shock.

Ignis stared around a bit more and soon let his hand fall from his head, having messed up slightly with his hair. He was still grinning and looking as if though a miracle had happened. His mouth moved in an attempt of speaking, but nothing came out of it. He shook the head very slightly and tried again, and when he found he was still mute he chuckled yet again and stared away from the beast, as if suddenly remembering he was there. Gladio only smiled and gave him the required time.  
“So?” Gladio asked with some fun in the voice, but the arrogance sounded rather…unharmful. The kind of arrogance that was used in jokes rather than in serious matters. “Is this enough to entertain you for a little more than a day?”  
The man gave another of the disbelief chuckles, and, conscious this time of his reactions, he moved a hand up to hide his smile from the other. 

Gladio only laughed very lowly under his breath, resting a hand against a nearby table, and expecting for Ignis to come out of the shock.  
“…how many?” Ignis murmured and tried to put the hand down, but it only returned to his face, like he was literally and consciously trying to hide his smile from the beast.  
“What?”  
“…how many books are there?” Ignis asked a little louder this time, and his hand went down, not caring anymore. He kept looking at the shelves, still amazed.  
“No idea” Gladio said with a little shrug. “It’s been a while since we last counted them. But I assure you, there’s more than five.”  
Ignis chuckled again and turned over himself to look at something behind him a little more. He still could not move from his spot, but nothing stopped him from grinning at all that he was looking at, eyes moving from here to there. 

Watching him, Gladio widened a smile against his own will, and his eyes went down.  
Looking at Ignis so content…it felt oddly good. It was even satisfying. And so relaxing. This felt so _right_.

A couple of moments later, Ignis dared to try and walk, more out of an impulse when he tried to reach for the closest shelf, but he stopped once given a step and he turned to look at Gladiolus.  
“Is it…I’m…” he took in a deep breath to calm himself, moving the hands up to clean invisible dust off his shirt under his cape. He needed a second breath before he was able to speak without stuttering out of excitement. He looked at the beast with a blank expression, but the curiosity blazed so strong in his eyes he could almost set the entire library on fire. “My apologies if I have misunderstood, Gladiolus, but…are you…offering me…do you mean that I have permission to…?”  
“Except the ones on recent history, and the scrolls of the shelf on the third floor” Gladio interrupted softly with a little nod. He walked away and Ignis watched him at first, followed hurriedly for a moment and stopped again, but the beast continued until reaching a table with a pile of books on it. 

Ignis stared around a bit more while the beast got occupied himself, and a few moments later Gladiolus was coming back carrying with four books, three of them pretty thick. He looked at them before anything; he had clearly just picked them in that precise moment and not before, and was analyzing them.  
“I’d recommend you start with these” Gladio said and put the books down on the table close to Ignis, who watched them with excitement and started analyzing them one by one. “This one’s got recovered poems and a full essay by the Clever King. This other is a Tenebraen novel, I don’t…know if you like tragedies, but, considering you’re pretty dramatic yourself, I guess it’s a good choice, and this other is an analysis and novelization of the life of the Rogue queen. This other is a comedy play, on ancient Lucian with transcription to Tenebraean and modern Lucian.”  
The man looked at them with growing, starving curiosity as he opened them to quickly skip through some pages, eyes eating them full almost without even giving a chance to his eyes to read anything at all. 

He piled them up on a side as he left one to inspect the next other, until three were left aside and he was holding the last one. Before he could think of piling it, he stopped and stood quiet. Then, he looked up at Gladiolus, standing at his side.  
“O-of course, I…really don’t know what your…taste in literature is, but…” the beast seemed to have needed of that glance to react, as if the man had flipped a switch, to have flinched and done that last comment. Gladio looked down almost as if embarrassed, and scratched at his own nape. “I thought…it’s…personal recommendation, you don’t have to read these if you don’t want to, there’s a…wider selection you can do on your own, so…”  
“I’d like these…I believe” Ignis reassured him, smile still present on his face, and gloved hands still holding onto one of the books. “Your personal recommendation” he said as if expecting a confirmation, and Gladio only nodded at him, very softly. “So you can read?”  
“I-I, oh, u-uhm…no” Gladio flinched again and stuttered, completely taken off guard. Half a second after his answer, he mentally slapped himself; _why did I say that!?_ No turning back, however. So he simply had to roll with it. He gave a nervous ‘pfft’ and crossed the arms, looking away. “I-I…no, I can’t, why…wh-why would I know?”

Ignis raised an eyebrow at him with a little confusion at the odd way Gladiolus was behaving.  
“So then how do you know about the content of these books?” Ignis continued questioning him, still not putting the book down. Gladio looked at him with a frozen expression for a second before looking away and let out a tiny ‘Ah’ as he put a finger up, like a teacher coming with an explanation.  
“I…used to know how to…read” Gladio continued lying, awkward. “But that was…” another nervous little laugh. “…s-so long ago, I can’t- I uhm…I just…forgot how to read, you know?” he gave no chance for Ignis, the damn strategist, to make any other questions before he continued. “Like, I used to read, and I read those, and then I…and time went and I…forgot and…”  
“Reading is like riding a chocobo, Gladiolus; you don’t forget” Ignis stated firmly at him, and the beast struggled a bit more with coming up with a response.  
“Y-yeah, well, I…that’s for you, people, but I’m a beast, so it’s not the same” was all that he thought to say, feeling a bit stupid and as if though he was insulting himself. 

Still, he did not back off from the lies. Ignis nodded, as if not completely convinced but not finding any other reasonable answer. Gladio looked at him some more moments, watched him look again at the books, and he let out a subtle breath of relief when he realized the man was not going to question him anymore.  
“This…is definitely going to distract me for a little more than one day” Ignis said after a while in almost a murmur. The beast did not move, falling a little again into nerves; the man tended to only reply to things, never start conversations or give a statement when not requested to. So he was not sure how to react now that Ignis had spoken first. In the silence, Ignis looked back up at him, still smiling…which only made Gladio even more nervous and empty in the head. “But why? There had to be a reason you hadn’t let me here before…why now?”

“U-uh…” Gladio tried to not panic again, and he traveled at the speed of light in his list of things to say, until he managed to say something. “I-It’s…you were…look, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but clearly having nothing to do makes you go all angry and moody for some reason” the beast looked away with a little frown and crossed the arms. “You’re exasperating when you get all upset, s-so I…needed to do something about it. If you’re content, I’m content.”  
Ignis’ smile disappeared and the man blinked up at him at the last words. He did not look upset, rather confused. Gladio looked at him a few moments, before he realized what the mistake had been. He tensed and flinched again.  
“I mean-!” the beast hurried to correct. “I meant that as in…if you’re content I don’t have to deal with a moody you. That’s it, I didn’t- that’s it.”

Ignis blinked at him once more, before he looked down at the time a smile came to his lips.  
“I understood” the man said in almost a murmur. The beast snorted as if a little angrily, looking away, embarrassed. They stood there completely quiet, Ignis trying to entertain himself fidgeting with the books again. A couple of moments later, Gladio gave a low ‘Uhm’ and scratched lightly at his neck again.  
“Well…I’ll…leave” Gladio said with a soft sigh. “Remember, no recent history books and not the scrolls on the third floor.”  
“Noted” Ignis confirmed without looking up.  
“Other than that, you can…just…take what you want, okay? Any day you want…at any time…any book…” Gladio said a little bit more softly than before and he gave a couple steps away. “Make…yourself…comfortable…”  
“I shall” Ignis confirmed again with a little nod. Gladio had stopped only for a moment, and whispered a low ‘Okay’ before he started retaking his way. 

He gave only a couple of steps before Ignis turned around.  
“Gladio” he called.  
The beast stopped and looked over his shoulder, but the man did not say anything nor moved, so he ended up fully turning back. He looked at the man some moments. Ignis held one of the books in a hand, down against his hip.  
“Uhm…” he seemed to have something in mind, a question or anything alike, but he also seemed to be struggling his way to let it out. Ignis moved the book up with some hesitation up to his chest so he could hold it with both hands, as if looking for an anchor that could give him security enough to speak without blowing up in pieces inside. He opened the mouth and looked at Gladio to the eyes, but that seemed to have made him reconsider it, and he looked away, shutting the mouth.  
“Yes?” the beast offered as a way of encouraging him. The man let out a small breath through a tiny aperture of his lips.

Ignis again turned to look at Gladiolus, and he widened a soft smile.  
“Thank you.”

The beast stood there in silence, eyebrows slightly raised and eyes a little bit wider than normal. His lips parted as if to say something, but all that he could do was stare at Ignis holding the book and smiling at him.  
Smiling. At him.  
The smile was not huge, but it was not subtle either. He was not trying to hide it. Ignis looked a bit shy but not insecure, even when the difference was hard to grasp. Maybe it was the smile or the different light of the room, but Gladio could swear that, compared to the gloomy man he had found staring out a window, this Ignis looked even a little more alive. His face had even recovered a bit of color. The grey, unfinished, dead doodle…back to its pastel-colored painting status. Ignis looked content; so excited, even when he tried to contain it. Gladio had not before seen him look this alive.

_And he’s smiling at me._

The chuckle and the laugh that had escaped Ignis that time when he had managed to scare the beast, that had been the first time Gladio ever saw him smile, but this was completely different. This was not the first time he saw him smile, but it felt like that. The time at the hallway had been a reflex; Ignis had found something to be funny and he could not help it but snort a laugh. It was a reaction of the body. It was _involuntary_. And this time, it was the complete opposite.  
Ignis had _decided_ to smile at him.  
Not laugh at him. Not laugh with him. It was not a reflex, not a reaction or instinct. This was the choice on free will, the decision to look at Gladiolus and let the lips curve up. Such a small gesture that hid so much behind. There was gratitude in there. A little hint of shyness. A huge, immense kindness. And more gratitude. Gladio could notice that this had meant to Ignis an entire world more, maybe a whole galaxy more than just what he could think that Gladiolus thought it really was. And it had to mean something…after all, Ignis was gifting him that treasure; his smile. For, to, and because of Gladio. 

The beast stayed totally quiet and could only stare at him. Ignis, on his part, looked away only for a moment before the eyes returned, smile still present. Gladio blinked once and opened the mouth again, forcing himself to react.  
“Ah…” he tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. He forced himself to improvise, to do anything, anything but stay still as he was. “That’s…you’re…” he took some more moments. He moved a hand up to clear his throat, calming down. When he put the hand down, he smiled back at Ignis, a little forcefully but not a single inch of falseness in it. “It’s nothing.”

The human put the book down again, as if the danger had already passed and he did not need of his anchor anymore. He widened his smile a little more towards Gladio, and, a bit insecurely at first, he started picking up the books. Gladio had thought on maybe offering a little help, but he found himself suddenly too nervous to do that. Still, Ignis only put them away to separate them from the other piles of books, and started heading to a nearby shelf. He stopped midway only to look at the beast once again, a little awkward, but he ended up looking down and smiling a little more.  
“O-Oh, right” Gladio said after noticing the slight discomfort; he understood that Ignis, as reserved as he was, most possibly would love to explore the library on his own, so that was why he showed himself a little awkward and hesitating on reaching for the shelves. “I’ll…see ya.”  
“Until another moment, Gladio” Ignis half-nodded at him as his formal goodbye, still smiling, before turning around and starting to take the staircase that led to the first floor of the library. 

The beast smiled a little for a few seconds, and eventually forced himself to head for the door. He tried not to hurry and to not make it too slow either, not helping to think all the way on what Ignis would think of every movement he was making, until he reached the doors. The furniture were still there, but he seemed to decide to ignore them all and only focus in his task. Once at the door, he turned to take the grips and pull to start closing them.  
He stopped when they were almost closed, and he looked into the library through the separation between the doors.

Ignis was busy looking at a shelf. The last that Gladio saw of him for a while was the human picking a book and pulling it out, opening it and start reviewing the first page.

The beast smiled at the sight, looked away, and closed the doors.

\--

Gladio felt a bit nervous when he went for dinner that night; it would be the first time he saw the human after the library event. He was not sure what to expect; Ignis had been all smiles and excitement in the library, but, if Gladio had gotten to know him even if only a little, he believed that maybe the man would be back to be a blank-faced emotionless thing as if nothing had happened. Which was not necessarily bad, but the Shield hated not to know what to be prepared for; he was so sure Ignis was going to be back into seriousness and silence that the idea of the small possibility that he would find the man to be talkative and smiley made him a bit nervous. What was he supposed to do then? It was like having to deal with a different person.

His heart, however, calmed when he found he had been right, and Ignis was back to have his blank expression.  
Except it looked a little, very slightly different. The beast tried to understand what exactly it was, but he could not figure anything out when the man was already requesting something from the pantries from him. Gladio, a bit nervous as if thinking the man could read his thoughts, turned and left for the meat he was requested for. Ignis had said long ago, almost as soon as he started his daily cooking for Gladio, that he would not allow the beast to help bring the vegetables, but he could carry with meat if he wanted, as it was too heavy for his usual helpers: little cups and spoons. Still, Gladio already knew the way things worked; he brought what he was asked for, if he was asked anything, and he had to leave the man to work all on his own afterwards.

That night, after a Hello that felt a bit awkward between the two, Ignis announced what he was making and asked the beast for some of the stored meat. The man that Gladio had seen in the library was no longer there; the lively air to himself, the contained excitement of a child, the big smile and the shyness, not there. Ignis was back to a blank face and his ordering around, but Gladio insisted something was a bit different. _He’s ordering around but not bossing_ , he realized when he was coming back from the pantries. But still, there was something _else_ he could not name yet.

In his way he saw that the usual quintet had already caught up with him after he had left them behind; they had had quite a conversation with him after the library event, and Gladio, seeking escape, left to the kitchen on his own so they could let him breathe for a moment. Not that they were upset, but having to deal with their surprise and excitement and constant questioning made him personally nervous and he did not want to give any explanations. Because he had none.

If he was honest, he himself had no idea why he had let Ignis into his personal sanctuary. To be questioned only confused him more and made him more nervous, which was the least he needed when dinner time was so close, which meant he would have to deal with the human again.

Seeing them reminded him of the conversation and the library, so he looked away as if pretending to not have seen them, and he entered the kitchen, bringing the meat.  
“Here it is” Gladio said with a little groan as he placed the bag carefully on a counter. “Anything else, Ignis?”  
“I believe I’ve got all that I need” the man said while inspecting the meat, gloveless and recently washed hands in duty. Gladio looked at him and, even though he had looked at them before, he came to notice how strong Ignis’ arms looked, now that he had the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. “Thanks, Gladio.”  
“Uh huh” the beast stretched a bit, and, through the opened doors that led to the dining room, he saw the furniture friends enter and make their way towards them. “Well, I’ll go.”

Gladio calmly started heading to the doors, completely oblivious to the way Ignis looked at nowhere on the counter and bit down on the interior of one of his cheeks, as if exasperated. It was only a matter of seconds, but the man struggled with himself pretty roughly, nonetheless. He closed the eyes and sighed, the ideas arguing inside him. He put down the knife he had come to hold, like somebody giving up, and he kept a short sigh inside.  
He had to snap it out before he could think about it any longer or he would not do it.  
“Gladio.”

The beast, already midways in the dining room and in the company of the usual furniture, stopped and looked over his shoulder at him. Ignis quickly licked at his lower lip, a bit nervous, and put the head slightly down.  
“…this recipe doesn’t take long to be done” Ignis explained and turned back to the counter, offering his back to the beast and now only looking over his shoulder at him. “You shouldn’t wander off too far…”  
Gladio titled the head lightly to a side and raised an eyebrow in confusion. Ignis only looked at him for a few more moments over his shoulder before he turned again to the counter in front of him. Almost as if hiding.  
“Uhm….I won’t” the beast said still a bit confused, and when he saw that the man was back at working in the kitchen, he turned and tried to take a step towards the exit of the dining room again.

Iris forced herself out of her shock, rolled the eyes and rushed to him to stand in front and stop him from taking another step.  
“You’re missing the point, idiot!” Iris whispered-shouted at him, but Gladio read her lips rather than heard her at all. He gave her a confused glance and reached down to hold her, asking for a very lost and oblivious ‘What?’. The tea cup rolled the eyes again and opened the mouth again, the beast bringing her close to his ear to hear this time. “He’s _asking you_ to _stay!”_  
“Wha-!?” Gladio whispered-shouted after flinching, putting Iris away to be able to look at her. He, nervous that Ignis had heard him, quickly looked over his shoulder. The man, visible through the opened doors, was still busy working in the kitchen. Gladio, again, turned to his sister. “Did you swallow sea water!? That’s not what he meant, he just- you’re- you’re mad!”  
“Just-damn- just sit down, Gladio!” Iris raged back at him, and Luna could not help a little giggle, watching from afar the oddly amusing paranoia of the siblings.  
“Iris, no!” Gladio whispered-shouter back at her. “He’s never liked I watch him cook, he’s going to be-”  
“Gladiolus Amicitia, sit the hell down in this instant!”  
“Okay, fine, but he’s going to murder me and it’s going to be your fault!”

It turned out that Ignis did not complain. Gladio had sit down at the nearest table, and he constantly looked back at the opened doors. Ignis had seen him once and had not tried to hide or pretend he did not notice…but he also did not complain to the beast sitting there in sight range. Ignis only gave him a glance before continuing with his work like nothing was out of ordinary. Gladio had flinched at first and had felt his heart dropping to his feet, remembering the devil-like Ignis from the leash issue and fearing he would make him appear again by disobeying the routine of not being nearby when the man was cooking…but Ignis did nothing. He only looked at him once, and continued cooking like it did not matter. Like he did not care.  
_Like he doesn’t care anymore._

Gladio tried not to, but his eyes insisted on looking at times. It was a bit strange, having this man cook for him. He was used to it, but to actually see him _while_ cooking made it seem more…real. It confirmed that food did not magically appear; Ignis really did prepare it all. He found it curious; he had seen Ignis hunt and work-out, he had seen him dangerously jump out of a window, but cooking…it was a big contrast. The man he had taken out hunting and that he had seen trying to escape and fight before was a blazing rouge of danger and adventure…and this one, the man in the kitchen, the brown haired with the sleeves rolled and an apron on, carefully cutting ingredients and reaching for spices…he was soft in comparison. Soft and…homely. He was not the dagger man of action. This was more like…a tender companion. Calm. And care. And kindness. 

Like when he sewed. And when he read. And when he chose books from a shelf. And when he drank his coffee. 

Gladio found himself oddly calm, and he found a bit strange that Ignis had not complained to him staying nearby, even when that meant he could watch him cook. The man looked a bit tense, but he had done nothing against it. He could have easily closed the doors of the kitchen, but he did not, either.  
_He’s asking you to stay._  
More like, ‘he’s telling you it’s fine to stay’. Not precisely ‘asking’. Even if Ignis had used different words, Gladio highly doubted that he would ‘ask’ him for something like that. The human clearly did not particularly enjoy of his company, so unless Ignis said it aloud himself, Gladio would not believe it. It was only growing false hopes, he said to himself.  
False hopes of what, though?  
_Hopes of thinking maybe somebody likes me, after all, in the condition I’m in. Hopes that he has realized I’m really not a monster, even when I do look like one…_

Ignis was…not rude with him. Not anymore, but it was not like he would stop seeing him as a monster, Gladio thought. It was like talking with a frog that swears to be a prince. A tale. Appearances are not all, but they sure do tell a lot. It would be hard to make Ignis see Gladio as a man when he looked like… _this_.

He only kept a sigh in his chest and decided to put a stop to his thoughts.

“It’s done” Ignis called some moments later when he came into the dining room holding two dishes. Gladio remembered about the time he had loudly banged at Ignis’ door and had roared at him the order to take dinner together, and he felt his face burning under all the fur; what had consumed him back then? That behavior seemed so…bestial. He felt embarrassed, but remembered Ignis could not read his thoughts, so he calmed and looked at the man. The human approached him and offered him one of the dishes, the one with twice the content. Gladio found the motion a bit strange; Ignis always left the dish on a counter or handed it to him when they stood in front of each other, but to be handed his dish while sat at the table was a bit odd. Maybe, he guessed a second later, it was because Gladio was used to have people put the dish in front of him on the table if he was sat there. He could not help a smile; Ignis still denied to behave like a servant to him, even denying to do small, simple, polite acts like this just to keep it clear.  
And he was right. Ignis was not a servant.

Gladio accepted the dish, trying to be careful not to break it or spill it, and brought it down to the table. Ignis brought his now free hand to his own dish, as if needing to occupy both hands the entire time with anything.  
“Thanks, Ignis” Gladio said in almost a murmur, and the man only nodded at him. Like expected, Ignis returned to the kitchen only to recover his coffee, and he exited through the side door, leaving both the kitchen and Gladio alone. The beast stood still for some moments, not really knowing why. He looked back at the table, where his friends still looked at either him or the door Ignis disappeared through with wide eyes as if though he had just admitted to be about to go hang himself or something as shocking and were expecting any explanation from Gladio. All that the Shield could do, however, was to shrug at them and look a bit embarrassed. To ignore them, he started eating.

While he was still eating, the furniture insisted on asking him things and say stuff, but Gladio tried to ignore them. He tried explaining he himself had no explanation to the things they asked, and tried to change subject but he did not manage to. He finished, spent a while with the furniture, left his dish at the sink and exited. Almost as soon as he did, Ignis appeared from another room with his own dish and cup, heading to the kitchen. Gladio waited for a moment, before coming to feel a bit paranoid of what Ignis would think if he found him still standing there, and he hurried to the stairs, where he slowed down as if pretending he had been walking the entire time. When the man came out of the kitchen, he headed for the stairs as well. Both looked at each other in silence. It was then when Gladio, while looking as Ignis walked upstairs, realized what was different.

_He’s not frowning._

Okay, Ignis was not smiling, and definitely not laughing or grinning. But he, for once, did not look as if though something was constantly farting in his face or poking at his ribs. Maybe he was not a joyful party guy, but…he did not look as stressed. While Gladio looked, Ignis came to stop when he reached the first landing, the one where the staircase separated in two ways.  
“My regards to the chef” Gladio said and gave a casual smile at him. “It was great. Thanks, Ignis.”  
“You’re very much welcome” the man said, looking up at him. That was two words more than usual from him. The expression was still soft. “Goodnight, Gladio.”  
“Night, Ignis” the beast replied while trying to stay calm. It was the second time that the man said those words on free will, by the desire of really saying it. And this time, there was also the name. _Gladio_. Gods, it felt so good, to be called by the short form of his name. Not that he hated the full name, but…three months into hearing ‘Gladiolus’ in that stressed, nagging voice, and hear it turn into a soft ‘Gladio’…that was quite a relief and a joy to hear. So the beast could not help it, and he smiled widely at the man. 

Ignis, almost as if mirroring him, smiled back. The curve of his lips was much smaller but not subtle, and very sincere.  
As easily as he had smiled, Ignis turned around and calmly made his way upstairs. Gladio looked at him for a few moments, a bit startled, but eventually forced himself to take the other set of stairs. He looked back a few couple times, but Ignis did not. The man continued his way, calm, heading straight towards his room. Gladio looked back a last time while he kept walking through his side of the castle, before turning again with a sigh, smile long gone by then. 

Some minutes later, he saw the coat rack of the blueish purple scarf pass by, pushing one of the carts from the library. Gladio smiled; he was heading to the direction of Ignis’ room.  
“He chose what he wants to read, huh, Nyx?” Gladio asked and turned, walking backwards. The rack looked back at him.  
“You see all these? He says it’s just ‘bedtime’ lecture” the once Glaive laughed. “The ones he wants to read ‘seriously’ are piled up in the library. The kid is a mess. It’s like a ka-zillion books.”  
“Oh, let him be” Gladio laughed lowly again. “He’s got nothing better to do.”  
“I’m not complaining, Glad” the rack said and smiled back at the Shield. Gladio smiled back at him before both wished each other goodnight and left their own ways. 

When Gladio reached his room, he found Prompto and Noctis standing there. Like time had not passed since he first opened the library’s doors, they looked at him with wide eyes and opened mouths in complete silence.  
“Oh, not again. Go question _him_ ” Gladio said as if finally exhausted of these pair. He had meant it as only half-a-statement and half-a-joke; when he walked into his room, he left the doors open and looked at the candelabra and the clock, expecting for them to go in. 

Prompto and Noctis, however, shared a glance, and soon started rushing their way towards Ignis’ bedroom like life on earth depended on it. Gladio rolled the eyes at them, but still laughed lowly, and closed the doors once Iris had made her way inside. 

That night, Gladio was terribly quiet and Iris decided to not question him. Each week that passed, her brother looked much calmer than she could remember ever since the day of the curse. 

Whatever Ignis was doing to him…it was fine, she decided.


	15. It's Fine Dining, We Suggest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be updating chapter on fixing typos and format, as well as moving the Prologue into a separate work. I don't know how the subscriptions work, but if you receive updates along the one of this chapter, it's me accidentally repairing my mess, not another chapter up.
> 
> Thank you, and deepest apologies for the upcoming inconveniences. I started this story being new to AO3 and its format and had no idea what works how. 
> 
> Enjoy, and yet another apology for taking particularly longer than usual. Let me know what you think!

While the negatively overthinking had stopped, Ignis found his head was still full to the top. 

Finding such a ridiculously huge library, so full of endless titles that no person would finish even if reading daily, _had_ been a solution to his negative overthinking, that was true; he had told Noctis only some sort of sum-up of what he was thinking about, but truth is the ideas were a thousand more. The idea that was bothering him the most was this insecurity of whether his father was alive or not, but there were also the ideas of, if he was alive, what his condition would be, if he was taken care by someone or on his own…and with no proper arguments for it and knowing it was wrong to judge firsthand, he could not help but having his head deviating on odd thoughts about the Healer. He _had_ sent his father with Healer Izunia, but now he could not help but wonder if it had been the best choice. Ignis had literally no reason to not trust the man, but he…simply did not. That he had appeared out of nowhere after the Niflheim invasion five years ago with a magical answer to the Insomnian people…it was good, of course. _Far too good_.

The man had been going around casting spells to repel daemons from towns, putting order, healing people that had started to catch the Starscourge, he was the definition of a saint. Still, something about him made Ignis uneasy, had always done; he knew good things happened, but even the Good in excess, for a miracle to time in as precisely, it was…odd. So far, the Healer had done but attend all the ill and sick that went to him, whether with that strange disease or with something more common or known, and bring them back to full health. So Ignis had no reasons to worry. Right?   
The overthinking was also on Aranea and her whereabouts. She was the strongest person Ignis knew about, but overthinking was doing its job and he kept picturing endless scenarios on how she could have died in her search for him and how it was all his fault. His head had even been putting Cindy in impossible scenarios that he _knew_ impossible and yet could not help to visualize. 

That was why overthinking had drove him completely upset; he knew it was stupid, that ninety percent of the things he was thinking about had no arguments to themselves and many did not even have any sense, but that was why it was called overthinking; it was _above_ the normal thinking, and was a real thing that happened to real people like him. If he was sincere, this was the first time it ever happened to him; so long he could remember, his life was busy to its very limit to have time for that. So, as a first time happening, he had literally not had a single idea of how to cope with it. Maybe distracting himself was not the answer (he was not sure, maybe it was? It felt like avoiding the problem rather than solving it), but so far that had been the only thing he could think about that was working.

That Gladiolus had let him into the library was possibly the best solution he could have had. Ignis had thought about cleaning a room daily to keep himself entertained, but that occupied the hands alone; his mind could still, if it wished, wander its stupid places. But to read…what a blessing. Reading kept his mind occupied, fully. It was the perfect answer; if he grew too tired or achy from training, reading was a passive activity in which the most he would move would be the fingers to skip pages (and sometimes the body to shift his position to something more comfortable after an hour in the same one), but still make his head be somewhere that was not its own place. Ignis was not sure if that was solving or avoiding the problem, but he had figured that reading was a way of somehow escaping the real world. He sometimes wondered how bad the real world had to be for fictional, intangible places to be more than just pieces of fantasies and had become refuges to thousands and thousands of people out there. Himself included.

He had been ecstatic about the library. After Gladiolus had left him there that evening, Ignis kept going from north to south looking at every shelf and things found in there. If one watched him from an eagle sight and speeded it up, it would be this little dot moving like a shooting star going from some point to another one, bouncing off to the opposite side, going in circles six or seven times, cross here and there, a constant come-and-go like an insect trapped in a bottle. Some furniture, like usual, watched him cheekily like curious children, and Ignis did not take long on taking the boss role (always without noticing) and request for helpers to carry the books he was picking. There was too much, and he wanted to read almost everything. 

And while Ignis was entertained and ecstatic among books like a greedy explorer among a cave full of golden coins and treasures, Gladiolus was hurriedly walking away of the library, chased by the usual quartet and some other furniture, bombarded by their endless questions.

Gladio thought he had managed to lose them at some point when he went into a bedroom for shelter (from who, though? The furniture, or…?), but the usual quartet caught up with him anyway. All that the Shield could do was groan and give them their back, pacing in nervous circles around the room he was in. At first, his friends did but to stay completely quiet. Luna looked very excited but containing everything that she had to say; Iris looked surprised, and Prompto and Noct looked utterly shocked, eyes wide and mouths opened. At first there was nothing but an awkward exchange of silence. That was until Gladio himself broke the silence. He stopped his anxious come-and-go and looked at them all, before yelping out a ‘What!?’ that sounded more scared than angered. 

“Dude…” Prompto let out in a soft breath. He was still unable to do anything but give those wide eyes up at the Shield. “…dude…”  
“Can’t you say anything else?” Gladio questioned him, but he looked away with nerves.   
“Man…” Noctis called as shocked, but he eventually widened a tiny smile. “…you let him in the library…”  
“Dude, you let him _in the library”_ Prompto repeated his friend’s words as if giving them emphasis. The clock nodded.   
“I must say, Gladdy, I too am pretty…surprised” Iris called, blinking her widened eyes up at her brother. “I thought you’d let him everywhere, anywhere, even the outside, but…the library…”  
“What’s so shocking about it?” Gladio asked and the question sounded as if though he himself was not buying his upcoming lies, but let them out anyway. “It’s just…a room…”  
“It’s not only a room” Iris shook the head. “It’s…your personal sanctuary.”  
“Your private space” Prompto said.  
“Your personal church” Noctis added.  
“Your intimate refuge” Luna finished, and the friends shared nods and glances before looking back up at him.

The Shield looked at them all with some nerves, and then snapped the head other way, licking quickly at his lip, the eyebrows furrowed.   
“You could have let him wander at the open field and I would have been less shocked” Iris insisted on him, and they all watched Gladio stay quiet, looking in teh direction of the window of the room with that anxious look upon his face. “The library, Gladdy. I can’t believe…”  
“I have, like, so many questions, but right now just…why?” Prompto asked him, smile present but face still showing his surprise.   
“I don’t know” Gladio admitted in almost a thread of a voice, still not looking at them. “I really don’t know. I…just…thought…it was the first thing I thought about, I had to do something and that was the first thing in my head, I really don’t know why I did that…” Gladio sighed and dropped himself on a chair. “It was more like an impulse…”  
“I don’t know, man” Prompto butted in, smirk on face. “It looked to me like you did think it through…”

Gladio only groaned in response.  
“And he’s calling you by ‘Gladio’” Luna added with contained joy, shown through a smile. “And he _smiled_ at you…”  
The word ‘smiled’ came out like a girl speaking of her wedding dress or brave knight in shining armor. The Shield felt a bit embarrassed and looked away from the furniture, still sat at the chair.  
“Right, since _when_ does he call you by ‘Gladio’!?” Prompto burst out. “Like, dude!”  
“That’s fishy” Noctis added with a smile, hands behind his back. “Sounds like you two turned into friends without us even knowing when or why or how. Or something.”  
“See? I told you all something very cute could blossom from this” Luna continued with her dreamy comments, leaning closer to Noctis. “We didn’t even need to intervene, it happened on its own. And I do believe you two could become even better friends, don’t you think, your Majesty?”  
“U-uh” Noctis turned a bit awkward and toyed a bit with one of his needles. He was used to Luna’s presence, but he was so vaguely called ‘Majesty’ among friends that it made him feel a bit startled. “Well, Ignis did kind of lost his head in the library, and his whole face screams Bookworm, so…” he chuckled as if amused. “You should try literature talk with him.”

“Gods, no…” Gladio groaned and hid his face behind his hands, slipping down on the chair. Then, as if changing subject, he added; “He looked so happy, I’ve never seen anyone but myself get so excited about books…”  
“Why did you tell him you can’t read, though?” Iris asked and Gladio hissed again, opening the hands to reveal his face.  
“I don’t know!” he panicked. “I just…it was an impulse!”  
“He calls you Gladio, you should have a nickname for him, too” Luna digressed from the main subject, still a bit too dreamy. “What would you call an Ignis, though?”  
“You told him you can’t-“ Noctis started, but ended up laughing mid-sentence. “Man, you panicked. He’s got you bad, huh?”  
“What do you mean he’s ‘got’ me!?” Gladio yelped out at him.  
“Ig…ny. Igny it shall be” Prompto declared and Luna nodded at him, both still digressing. 

“So bringing him to the library and telling him you can’t read were both impulses?” Iris asked him, and Gladio started panicking at not knowing who to pay attention to and which conversation to take.  
“Well, can’t be changed” Noctis sighed. “What now, Big Guy? Gonna make him your ‘Literature Buddy’?”  
“I can’t do that…” Gladio groaned and hid behind his hands again for a moment. “I’m…too…I can’t…”  
“I say you try” Luna again with that joyful smile. “He’s going to be super grateful to have someone to talk with about books.”  
“What if we don’t share the same taste?” Gladio asked, putting the hands away and letting them fall to his sides. “I’ll look like an idiot. What if he judges me of…oddly romantic just for the novels I read? I’m not…he’s…I’ll just…stay at bay, it’s not like…”  
“But you didn’t answer!” Prompto whined. “Since _when_ does he call you ‘Gladio’!? Did you guys hear him? He was all smiling and super soft and said ‘Thank you, Gladio’, it was _so weird!”_

“Prom’s got a point, though” Iris agreed. “I had no idea he called you that…and the way he behaved with you, I mean, at least compared to the first weeks…”  
“It’s beautiful” Luna sighed, and nobody questioned whatever she meant.  
“So, why not become literature buddies?” Noctis insisted, and, seen as Gladio had many questions unanswered and really had no idea how to reply to some, he just went with the last one with the mental excuse that Noctis had preference to being replied to.  
“It’s not…” Gladio stopped there again. It took him some moments in which he only bit down on his lower lip, despite the discomfort of the upward fangs. They all stayed quiet some moments; Gladio, feeling as if though there was no escape (from what?), let go of his lip with a trembling sigh. “…well, you know, it’s not like…I’m his favorite host ever, or of his liking at all, so…”  
“Aw, come on, Big Guy, don’t say that” Prompto tried to encourage, but Gladio continued before the candelabra could say anything else.  
“I can’t…just go and say Hi and try to talk about books like…” he stayed quiet some more moments and sighed yet again, eyes going down. “…like he’s not uncomfortable in my presence…”

“Oh, don’t think of yourself like that” Iris said and climbed onto the table next to the chair Gladio was sat at. “He seems like he adores his personal space, but it’s not like he’d reject you either…”  
“He does” Gladio said. “He didn’t feel confident enough to start looking around the library until I left…I mean, not that I’m complaining. If I was him, I’d…I’d be uncomfortable too with the monster dude too, you know?”  
“I do admit mister Ignis _is_ uncomfortable in your presence, Gladiolus” Luna said, looking up at the Shield. The rest of the friends looked at her, a bit startled by her starting words. “That’s not a lie. But do compare his behavior with you of today with the one of previous weeks” she smiled brightly up at him. “It’s very slow and subtle, but it’s there.”  
“The what?” Prompto asked her.  
“His trust” Luna replied. “Ignis, step by step, little by little, is growing trust in you, Gladiolus. And have you noticed what it is that’s helping him trust?”

Gladio only looked at her, as if too paranoid or scared to say any answer and waiting for the one Luna had.  
“It’s that you show him the real _you”_ Luna told him, sweetly. “The man under the fur and the claws. The Gladiolus that cares for people, that loves books, that laughs, that is careful and kind” she, too, hopped and climbed onto the table besides the chair, and stood nearby Iris. “You’ve been trying to give him his space, and that got him to stop distrusting. But actions like this are what make him not only stop distrusting, but also start to trust, which is different.”  
“Actions like what? Let him into the library?” Gladio asked her, a bit lost.  
“Yes” she nodded, smile upon her face. “But the way you did; with a good intention. Caring for his state of mind and heart, wanting to do something about it. Recommending books, showing you understand, that you care. Even if only as acquaintances.”

There was a silence in which Gladio seemed to be hesitant about something, nervous like a teenager. Some moments into it, he sighed and looked away.  
“I don’t know, Lady Luna…” he sighed. “I mean, I’d like…it’d be nice if he stopped seeing me as enemy, but…to get close to him just to show him I’m a good person…”  
“Why not?” Iris asked him. “You _are.”_  
“Yeah, I mean, it’s not…” Gladio stopped for another sigh. “It’s not that I’m not. It’s that he…doesn’t seem to particularly fancy my presence, you know? I just…don’t want to make him uncomfortable…” even though the furniture seemed to have a reply, Gladio sighed and took the word before any of them could. “I mean…I do am responsible for these random breakdowns he’s having…”  
“Oh, come on” Prompto tried to reassure him. “It’s not all on you…”  
“Prompto…” Gladio called as if on a warning, and the candelabra only looked down and away. “We all know. Directly or not, I’m what’s making him miserable…” he sighed for the millionth time. “I don’t know how imprudent it’ll be of me to try to get close to him…”

There was some silence afterwards. Some or other way, they started discussing the same matter, but, as the usual treatment between them, it all somehow ended up going back into the silly-paranoid mess of questions flying everywhere and little laughs shared, the serious now turned into another friendly conversation.

It had been later that night, when Ignis had let Gladiolus stay nearby and let him stare while the man cooked, that the furniture friends were entirely taken off guard again and returned to the state of shock. They had guessed and concluded that Ignis was a major bookworm that had gotten overexcited with the library, and the excitement was partly (only partly) responsible of him calling the beast by ‘Gladio’ instead of his full name, and for his soft behavior with him. But that Ignis had let him stay to watch him cook…  
It sounded like so little. But it felt like so much. So very much. Cooking was almost intimate for Ignis; he made it patiently and with care, like it was an art, like his cooking was going to be tasted by a judge. He had explicitly told Gladio, weeks prior to that, ever since he first started cooking for him, that he did not want him nearby to ‘watch him’ cook. Whether it was a conscious choice of words or not, the man had specifically said he did not want Gladio to _see_ him work.   
How much could it mean that Ignis was, apparently, fine with it now?

The furniture friends had been taken off-guard and had fallen in shock again, but each took it their own way; Iris, usually even if not always spending the night with Gladio, had been patient enough to wait until bedtime (even though she later on got no information about what had just happened in dinner). Luna seemed to be loving the situation and was content with just watching, not needing to ask. But the Prompto-Noctis duo _needed_ to know more. Hungry for answers and the gossip, both had been so shocked by the treatment Ignis gave to Gladio that the first thing they thought about was going to question their old-time friend. It was only when Gladio, half-joking half-serious, told them to leave him alone and ‘go question _him’_ that it struck both of the friends like a bolt; they had been busy thinking on questioning Gladio that it had not occurred to them they could question Ignis too, that this was a thing of two.

So they rushed to the man’s room, prepared to question _him_ on the situation.

 

“It was…an impulse.”  
Noctis and Prompto shared a glance that needed no words for them to understand each other’s thoughts. The same answer than Gladio. Except Ignis looked much, much calmer. There were Gladio kept yelping out, groaning, not understanding and whining out he had no idea what to do, Ignis calmly buttoned his pajamas’ shirt.   
“He had told me…back when we last went out to the open field together” Ignis explained to all the questions he was bombarded with previously, “that I could call him ‘Gladio’ if I wanted. I had not…personally thought about it. When I called for him back in the library to thank him, it was…more of an impulse.”

The man reached for the towel that he had left at a chair and gently rubbed his hair again. He liked to bath both at morning and night.  
“It felt…like the natural thing to do” Ignis continued explaining. “I believe that the use it has had these previous months has turned the word ‘Gladiolus’ into a nag word rather than a name” even though he was serious, the comment made Prompto laugh between clenched teeth, and Noctis, containing himself, nudged at his candelabra friend, “and with today’s events…” there was a pause in there. The friends looked at him with curiosity, and found the man smiling at nowhere at all, eyes down as if looking into the void. He was thinking in silence. “…well, I do believe I simply had no reasons to nag him or be upset. So it simply came out like that. Gladio. Why are you asking me? Did it trouble him?”  
“’Trouble him’…” Noctis muttered with a growing, childish grin before he started quietly laughing between clenched teeth, trying to stop. The roles turned and it was Prompto who nudged him this time. 

“It just…we didn’t have an idea…” Prompto said but cut his sentence midways through and seemed to think of another way of phrasing it. “Dude, it just was weird, you know? I mean, you two had stopped arguing, but I had no idea you were more like friends now.”  
“I do am aware the arguments have come to a halt” Ignis said and started caressing the other side of his head with the towel, making sure to make a last drying, “but I am not completely sure I would say we are ‘more like friends now’. Just the previous week we were still…arguing, to some extent. In some way. But arguing, nonetheless.”  
“Well, it was kind of friendly to me” Prompto said and looked at Noctis as if expecting for approval. The clock nodded in agreement. “You know, that he let you in the library so you could cheer up, you smiling at him and calling him Gladio, and, I don’t know, the overall treatment seems nice and friendly to me.”  
“He let me in the library to…cheer me up?” Ignis questioned, very interested from the look he was offering. 

Both of the furniture pieces stayed quiet and a bit eye widened. Ignis looked at them with curiosity and gaze insisting for answers. The friends, on their part, shared a glance and turned a bit awkward.   
“Did you…tell him anything, Noctis?” Ignis asked and, to the surprise of the other two, he sounded slightly…insecure. They would most possibly not have been able to tell had they not seen his weakest moments already, back in the tower, when he was a terrified, starving and insecure mess, and knew what he sounded like in that state. It was subtle, but definitely there, in the question. Noctis blinked at him once; Ignis was fearing to have had his trust betrayed, even if for a good change, and the clock could understand without being told.  
“No” the clock said casually with a slight shake of the head. 

“It…was me” Prompto admitted before Noctis could add anything else. Ignis, confused, turned to look at the candelabra. The golden furniture looked a bit embarrassed and ashamed, and put the head slightly down. “I…don’t know what happened or what had you like that, but…you looked so sad, and I just thought on asking Gladio if he could do something…I-I didn’t…it’s no trouble, though, right?” the candelabra laughed lowly and a bit nervously up at the human. “It turned out fine, I mean. Right?”  
“Of course…” Ignis agreed after a few moments in silence. He looked away and focused in retaking the drying of his almost-already-dried hair. “Thank you for the concern, Prompto. That you convinced him to let me in the library was the best-”  
“What? No, dude!” Prompto interrupted the man. “That was all Gladio’s idea.”  
“…excuse me?” Ignis whispered lowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He really was not sure if he understood.

“And I think you should know, Specs…” Noctis started adding with a little sigh, containing a yawn. “This was pretty heavy coming from him.”  
“…I am afraid I do not quite understand” Ignis admitted after some moments in silence, towel forgotten and resting on his shoulders.   
“Oh, man, you don’t have an idea” Prompto stated as if only now remembering. “Remember we hadn’t let you there? You wanna know why?” at the questions, Ignis shrugged with one shoulder as if really not having much of a choice. “It’s not that there was anything to hide. It was only because that’s Gladio’s personal sanctuary.”  
“Personal…sanctuary?” Ignis repeated, almost as if thinking that repeating the words would put some sense to them. It did not work.   
“If you can’t find Gladio, he’s most surely there” Noctis said. “He loves the library. That nerd. Not that you…are a nerd, too, he’s just…yeah.”

“I…still do not quite understand” Ignis admitted. “He said he couldn’t read. Did he lie?”  
“No” Noctis tried to show himself confident enough in the lie, and Ignis did not seem to see it through. “He just…likes that space, you know. Whatever his reasons…”  
“Gladio’s pretty intimate with the library” Prompto told Ignis with a little smile. “He adores being there. Every time he’s sad, he goes there. Upset, there. Happy, there.”  
“Every time a petal falls and he gets all worked up, or whenever the beast wants to take over, Gladio just…goes there” Noctis said. “He doesn’t want to harm any of us, and the library’s free from living furniture, so…considering it’s been his personal refuge since anyone can remember…”  
“It’s…some sort of mental and emotional shelter for him, am I understanding?” Ignis asked, blinking once towards the friends. They nodded at him. Ignis looked down at nowhere for a moment, sighing and moving a hand up to pass through his slightly damp hair. “Astrals…am I…does not that mean I am invading his privacy?”

“Now you see why we’re so confused, dude” Prompto said with a silly smile as if though this was all an amusing scenario. “Gladio just let you in his sanctuary and acts as if it’s super chill.”  
“Is it not?” Ignis asked with subtle paranoia, sighing and looking away. “The Gods have mercy on me, I had no idea, I shouldn’t- this is not…If it’s so personal to him, I should not be nosing around…”  
“That’s what’s got us so puzzled, Specs” Noctis tried to calm him. “He really doesn’t mind that you’re there. He actually looked very happy to see that you liked it” the clock did yawn this time, not helping it. “Don’t ask me, but I think he regrets nothing.”  
“A-and it would be rude to reject such a huge gift, right, Ignis?” Prompto asked him joyfully. “I think it’s okay you keep visiting the library, but, still… _dude_. I can’t get over it. It’s not like the sassy, sarcastic duo they used to be, remember, Noct?”   
“It was tiring” Noctis exhaled, lazy. “Just hearing them would tire me out. Speaking of tiring out, I wanna sleep already. Too much excitement for one day.”  
“Ah, come on, Noct, it’s early” Prompto insisted on him.

The furniture kept sharing comments and discussing unimportant matters. Ignis, on his part, only thought about what he had just learnt, quiet and rather confused. The man slowly and distractedly caressed his hair with the towel a last time before going over to the bathroom once more to hang the towel there, while the other two still childishly argued and talked. Ignis eventually exited the bathroom and thought of heading towards the bed, but he stopped, still thinking. Some moments later, he looked down at the pair of friends, leaning down not to be too far from them.  
“Excuse me, you two” he called, interrupting the friends’ silly argue. Both stopped and looked up at him. Ignis looked slightly distressed, as if worried. “I…I’m not very sure of how to handle the situation now, knowing what the library means to him. It feels wrong…to invade somebody else’s intimacy, I mean. I feel like an intruder.”  
“But you’re not” Noct stated firmly. “Gladio’s a guy of impulse, but no way he’d have let you there without thinking. It’s too important to him to do something like that as if nothing.”  
“Precisely, it’s precisely because it is so dear and important to him that I am…unsure” Ignis said, coming down to his knees in front of the other two. “I do not wish to be an inconvenience to him, or a bother.”

“I don’t think you’re a bother” Prompto reassured. “You’re quiet and cool and you like order. It’s not like you’d go wreck the library.”  
“It’s not…what I would do in the library” Ignis tried to explain. “It’s…my presence. I am aware he’s not precisely fond of me. I know he doesn’t precisely enjoy of my presence, so I guess that being in the library may bother him.”  
Both Noctis and Prompto stayed quiet, looking at him with slightly widened eyes and the words at the tip of their tongues.   
This was ridiculous. This was exactly what Gladio had said, except with a more pompous way of speaking and choice of words. The friends shared a glance as if both were sharing the understanding and making sure the other grasped it as well, and they looked back at Ignis.  
“I-I don’t think you’d bother him” Prompto told him, a bit nervous. “You know, he doesn’t…hate you.”  
“I don’t think he minds about your presence, Specs” Noct added. “Knowing him, he’d have just let you rot on your own, but he’s tried to make you feel comfy and content, so…”

Content.  
 _If you’re content, I’m content._  
The words returned to Ignis like a bolt. It had been so improper, like telling a complete stranger you love them. But it felt sincere. Even though the beast had quickly fixed it and had worded it better to express what he had _really_ meant to say, it was still sincere. A small show of…kindness. Ignis put the eyes lightly down and felt something inside him warming, similar to the sensation of a small puddle or warm water softly spilling somewhere behind his lungs, careful and slow. He looked away, a bit embarrassed, but reminded himself almost as a chide that he had no reasons to feel like that.   
“Yeah” Prompto was saying. “I think he cares, in some way. You know, he’s asked you to go hunt and do stuff outside together, and he didn’t reject me when I asked him to go see you, and he recommended books to you, so…” the candelabra shrugged. “I really think he doesn’t mind having you ‘round.”  
“…but why?” it was only a murmur from Ignis, who put the eyes down again and had taken some moments to process the information, but could not. “Why allow me in a place so intimate to him, when we’re not…?”

“I guess he’s just being kind” Noctis said. “He doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your stay here.”  
“…I still don’t understand” Ignis admitted, lowly. He looked quite lost, to the point the other two looked at him with a little more seriousness. “The way you described it…is the library really that important to him?” at the question, the clock and the candelabra shared a glance for a few seconds, as if silently speaking. They looked at Ignis again and both nodded. The man looked at a side, furrowing the eyebrows a bit more.   
“He must really like you” Noctis said some moments later. “He likes his personal space, you know.”  
“But…why?” Ignis insisted. “Apologies, but I don’t understand why he’d let me in there…we are not…I am not…I thought…”  
“That he disliked you?” Prompto offered. “This is a mess” he said with a laugh. “You think he hates you so you don’t get close, and he thinks you hate him so he doesn’t get close either. What a mess.”

“Has he…told you?” Ignis asked him softly, but still puzzled about the entire situation. Prompto gave him slightly widened eyes for a moment and then looked away with a long ‘Uh…’.   
“No?” he finally let out. “I mean, it’s just…what I think.”  
“You look shocked about it, Specs” Noctis butted in. “Isn’t it good, though? If he let you in, he’s growing comfortable with you. Which means it’s closer to him being cool about releasing you and all. Or something.”  
“I should be excited” Ignis agreed, “but I am not. I don’t finish to understand…why he would be personally kind to me. If the library’s as special to him and yet he let me inside…” he sighed and looked away, a hand coming up to caress his own neck. “This is…very kind from him. But I don’t see why he did that, when all I’ve done is but insult him.”  
“Hm…nah, man” Prompto said with a smile. “You cook for him. He’s always had a giant appetite, and what you cook looks super delicious. He’s very grateful each time you cook for him, trust me. And you treat us good, and he likes that a lot. And he likes the way you battle.”  
“Did he say that?” Ignis asked him, a bit startled.

“And you saved his life and cured him that once” Noctis interrupted before his candelabra friend would mess anything up. “I don’t know if you don’t see it, but you’ve been kind to him.”  
Ignis did not reply. The three stayed quiet. The interruption was the clock yawning and repeating he wanted to get some sleep. He asked Ignis if it was fine to stay with him that night, because ‘my room is too far’. The human agreed and picked Noctis up, placing him on the chair as requested. Ignis found it a bit amusing; he thought the clock was fine asleep on a shelf, but he seemed to like comfortable spaces as if he was a person. Prompto, too, asked to stay for the night, and Ignis put him on the other small chair, not bringing the conversation back, and he headed for the bed.

In silence, he turned off the lights and lied down, bringing the sheets onto himself. His glasses already rested at the bedside table ever since before his night shower.   
It was minutes later when the happy sound of Prompto’s clicking echoed in the room, louder each time until Ignis could see the candelabra climb up the bedside table. He sat at the edge with his…’leg’ hanging from it, and looked at the man.  
“Ignis” he called softly, “do you like Gladio?”

A bit startled by the concise question, Ignis rolled on his side to face the candelabra better, but said nothing. The man rested a hand under his head to lift it lightly, and blinked at Prompto. The golden furniture was looking at him, serious and quiet. It did not sound like a mocking question or sarcasm. It sounded…almost hopeful. Ignis could not help but compare the way Prompto asked him that to the way a child asks if ‘grandpa will be okay’. The man still took many more moments and blinked very softly again. His eyes sparkled gently but outstanding against the darkness thanks to Prompto’s dim light of his candles. The candelabra did not insist on him verbally, but did not look away for a single second, as if thinking that the first to stare away lost.   
“…I don’t know, Prompto” Ignis whispered to him. He had no reason to do that; nobody to wake up. Except Noctis, but he was a heavy sleeper. It had been almost…like the man himself feared to hear what he was saying himself. “I know that I don’t hate him. Not anymore.”

The candelabra nodded softly, looking away. His only leg balanced slowly. Ignis, too, stayed quiet, thinking on other things while also attentive on his little friend.   
“I’d like to ask you to tell me more about what the library means to Gladiolus” Ignis whispered to the other, still in that confident air. “But I don’t think it’s correct to ask someone for somebody else’s privacy.”  
“Why not ask him yourself?” Prompto suggested. Ignis smiled a bit more widely at him with a subtle snort as if a chuckle, but the man offered no reply to that. Instead, he pulled the sheets a bit closer to himself.  
“He’s been…rather good with me lately, hasn’t he?” Ignis asked, again in a low whisper, just for Prompto. The candelabra nodded at him with a warm, happy smile. Ignis returned it for a moment, but his eyes quickly went down. He spent some thoughtful moments doing but stare at the void, hand still supporting his head. “…I wish to…”

Prompto turned again to look at him, the attention full on the man once more. The candelabra looked at him as if insisting with the eyes to finish the words, but Ignis said nothing. He still stared at nowhere at all, expression soft but confused.   
“To what, Ignis?” Prompto asked him to give his friend some courage. Ignis, however, only looked back up at him for a moment, put the eyes down again at the time he widened a smile and let out a little snort, and shook the head.   
“It’s nothing” Ignis whispered.   
“Come on, Specs, you’re safe with me” the candelabra insisted, maybe a bit childishly. Ignis grinned at him. “Come on, tell me!”

As any response, Ignis reached a hand closer to Prompto and, with bare, dry fingertips, he put out the fire of the tiny flames on the candelabra’s hands and head.  
“Ignis…” Prompto groaned as a complaint, and the man only smiled at him again, the head returning to the pillow.  
“Goodnight, Prompto” Ignis said softly, smile still on his face, and he closed the eyes.

His friend still insisted on him a few times, but the man kept the eyes closed until Prompto got tired and decided to just sleep as well. 

\--

Two days passed by with a different calm in the castle. It was not the usual “Nothing is happening”, but rather a more comfortable peace. People could say it was senseless and had no real, physical affectation, but perhaps the air felt different due to the new energy that silently rumbled through the hallways. The source, Ignis. The boost of happiness that had come from being presented to the library had been ridiculous; if the man did not look over excited that was because he had shown himself to have a reserved attitude, but some furniture started guessing that was he anybody else he would be running through the castle all day and talking to exhaustion out of joy. But even when he was not like that, he was still a little more active than usual. A little…less angered and moody, like it had been his usual state for all these previous months.

He seemed to be pretty happy with his new entertainment. Even though he already had a massive pile in his room, he kept coming and going into the library. He was picking more and more books, listing some, and exploring every corner he could find. Some furniture usually looked at him, not helping to be a bit amazed; it was like watching a child explore a big exotic palace for the first time. He kept going places, looking at everything, and even, like that child of the metaphor, touching everything. It was like he was discovering the world, wanting to feel every sensation, wanting to not miss a single detail of all the things and tools and stuff he found around. It was somehow gratifying just watching him. 

Ignis and Gladio had seen one another very little times, and those that they crossed ways had been a bit awkward. But definitely not bad. The day following to the library event, they accidentally crossed ways before breakfast. Ignis had said ‘Good morning’ for the first time in all those three months. He tended to stay quiet and only greet (sometimes) once breakfast was served. This time, however, he looked at Gladiolus, became a little flustered and gave the quiet greeting, before excusing himself and leaving. He did not seem particularly shy, only a bit nervous. Gladio understood; the man probably had no idea how to behave towards him. And, to be sincere, the Shield was somehow grateful that Ignis had parted so soon with no more words; the ‘Good morning’ was such a tiny thing but struck him so hard in the head out of how unexpected it had been that he guessed he probably would be a stuttering mess if he tried to hold a conversation.

The next day, Ignis greeted him again with a Good Morning and bid Good Night, and it happened on the third day in a row. It was not much, but it felt sincere. And it was something. For smaller and unimportant as it was, Gladio felt a bit proud, like it was a trophy, a big achievement. It felt as if though, while he was aware Ignis was pretty miserable, the man had finally understood he was not hated. As if though he was finally, after so long, making himself feel a bit more comfortable in the castle. A bit less like a prisoner. 

Every time Ignis gave him a Good Morning and a Good Night, even if it was without any smiles, Gladio gained a little more confidence that he had done the right thing about the library.  
Ignis was not a bad person. He only needed to loosen the mood a little bit.

 

It was on that third day after the library event, a new month begun (of the calendar, not the one counting since Ignis’ arrival) and a couple Good Morning and Night shared, that Ignis could not resist it any longer, and had to admit something to himself that had him sighing, thinking he could or not be losing the head, and start looking for the usual candelabra-clock duo, seeking for a little help from their part. He left the library behind and crossed a few hallways, before accidentally walking into the beast. Both stopped a bit startled, but none scared, and stepped away of each other. Ignis greeted him verbally and added a little bow of the head. The beast greeted back, and asked him if he was going to use the library, and went a bit awkward with ‘It’s the other way, so I guess you’re just leaving it, maybe, so it wouldn’t make sense you’re going there, but, still, I wanted to ask first’. Ignis found the question to be a kind gesture, but said nothing about it. Instead, he answered the question, saying he was done there and that he looked for Prompto or Noctis.

The beast gave him a couple directions of where he had last seen any of them, Ignis thanked him, both bid goodbye and parted ways. Ignis went away and sighed as soon as he was out of the beast’s range of sight or ear, feeling a bit startled. He reminded to himself, like many other times before, that he had no reasons to feel like this. What he was feeling was a guest-kind-of type gratitude, there was nothing personal about it all or any reason to care about Gladio’s opinion on his actions. Calming himself down, Ignis started heading to the place where Gladio had last seen the pair of friends, hoping to not take long. He spent some minutes going around asking people, but he did not find any of them; they found _him._ Or, better said, Prompto alone was who found him.

Ignis was going through a hallway when a door he had already walked past opened behind him. He paid no major attention to that; he had gotten used to doors opening and furniture walking in or out in their daily activities.  
“Ah, Ignis!” he heard the happy voice of the candelabra calling from behind, so this time Ignis did stop and looked back. The golden furniture was looking out through the barely open door, half the body hidden into the room. He was smiling at the man, and soon made gestures to him to approach him. “Come, Ignis! I’ve been meaning to show you…” he stopped there and looked at the sides as if to make sure this was staying in privacy between them. Ignis did not know what it was about but he understood the candelabra wanted to keep it secret, so he headed there before asking anything. He looked at the candelabra happily hop in his place before turning around and enter the room again, leaving the door slightly opened as it was.

Ignis reached closer and opened the door only enough to pull himself inside, still not sure how secret this had to be, and closed it behind him. The room was well illuminated; the day was mostly while not entirely clear. The man stopped at the entrance and looked around, a bit curious.  
It was a studio.  
There were paintings, finished and half-done, scattered around the room. Some were hanging on the walls, some others were lined up against somewhere. There were art tools everywhere. The room was much messier than Ignis would have liked and it made him a bit uncomfortable, but he was not paying much attention to that sensation due to the excitement of sorts; he had seen many things around, even old instruments abandoned, but he still had not expected to find this. The brushes scattered around, all sizes, many blank canvases, rulers and pencils, stained cloths, dirty water in little cups. Ignis kept looking around a little more, and his eyes, as they were scanning everything, ended up landing on and remembering about the candelabra.

Prompto stood on a wide table put against a wall. There were some canvases lined up in four or so different rows, all to the sides. On the middle there were two canvases, one with a painting of a beautiful sight of some spring garden and a distant river. It was not the most realistic, like the trending paintings had it (dark, detailed, even sad at times), but rather colorful even if staying soft and pastel-like, with less care on perfect details and a bit more brushed on purpose. And at a side of that painting there was a canvas covered with a cloth to hide the content. In front of it stood Prompto, smiling widely up at the man and apparently giving him his time to look around. Only when Ignis spotted his friend again he discovered the little dots of paint on the candles that worked as his hands and a few more on his column (or torso, if he had to compare to the human body). Ignis raised the eyebrows lightly at him and the smile appeared on its own, and he, almost by instinct now that he understood, looked around once again now with new eyes.

“Prompto…” Ignis said with clear amazement after some more moments of looking around and getting closer to the table. “Prompto…did you paint all these?”  
“A-ah, yes” Prompto said with a happy if slightly embarrassed smile. “S-some are old, so…” he laughed nervously. “It’s not the big deal, but yeah, I’ve painted all these.”  
“Prompto…” Ignis called again as if it had suddenly turned in the only thing he knew how to say, still staring around, the smile doing but grow. “They are all beautiful…”  
There were paintings of beautiful outside scenarios, the Citadel as imagined if clean, the open field, and even of just hallways or pretty spaces inside the castle itself. There were some portraits, but none that Ignis could recognize (it would have been weird he did, he guessed). There was a painting of a man in some black uniform of sorts, with the hair cut on the sides of the head. Ignis got closer to that one, curious and a bit familiar with that face, but nothing that brought any déjà vu to him. At first he had thought there was a small black accidental dot on the man’s cheek, but when he looked closer he found that to be on purpose, as if some sort of tiny face paint or tattoo. His hoodie had some kind of decorative metal horn on it. Ignis smiled at the painting after spending a while watching it, and then one of the Citadel called his attention. It was a balcony as seen from afar. There were two people talking there, but they were too little and not so detailed to make any personality out of them. 

“You think so?” Prompto said after the last compliment, looking up at the man with hopeful eyes. Ignis looked at him and nodded. “Thanks, buddy! I-I’ve tried to improve a lot with the years!”  
“And, from what I can see, you’re doing a fantastic job, Prompto” Ignis said while still staring at one of the paintings, adoring every detail on it. “I had no idea you were an artist.”  
“A-ah, well, I don’t know if I’m an artist, but I sure try!” Prompto said cheerfully and a little embarrassed, but in a good way. “I’ve been wanting to show you for a while, but I…was a bit shy, you know? Didn’t know what you’d think, you know, ‘cause you have hands and I have these” he put his little candles up to show them to him, “so, you know, a bit shy, haha!”  
“Well, in that case I’m twice the grateful for showing me” Ignis said and finished to approach the table, looking down at Prompto with a sincere smile. “It must mean a lot to you.”  
“Uh huh!” Prompto nodded, returning the smile. 

“Since when do you paint, Prompto?” Ignis asked, looking at the rows of lined canvas on the table.  
“Since I can remember!” the candelabra replied. “I-I’ve just…had troubles, you know, what with having to learn with candle hands, but I think I’m getting there. It’s not like I’ve had much to do in these five years, so…” he shrugged. “Lots of time painting, lots of improvement, I guess.”  
“All these are amazing, Prompto” Ignis murmured to him, still unable to stop smiling and looking around.  
Ignis leaned down slightly to be closer to the table’s height, and looked at the rows of canvases. On the nearest row, the canvas on the very front showed a portrait of a young lady with the face half-hidden behind a hat, but Ignis looked at it only a few seconds. His eyes went to the canvas on the very back of that line. He could see but an inch or two of its border, but it sure called his attention due to the palette choice; black and blue colors mostly. From the little he could see, it looked like it was another portrait, full body. There was…a blue line, as if light of some sort, and…a chair. No. It was more like a…throne. Humble and small, but a throne. He could see the tip of a boot, and there, on the armrest, a human elbow. The arm went up but the hand, apparently wearing a long glove, disappeared behind the other canvas. But, from what he could make out, the hand had to be supporting the head of the person sat there. That person, as well, had pitch black hair.

Ignis felt curious. Something about the painting called for him to move aside all the other canvases and look at that one, discover the face behind. It was not like the other déjà vu’s, but it still called his attention. He had started to reach a hand up but stopped and looked at the candelabra.  
“Excuse me, do you think I could look at that one over there?” the man asked and pointed at the painting he was referring to. Prompto turned to see what he was talking about, and he seemed to tense a bit, but only turned to ask ‘That one?’. Ignis nodded at him.   
“Oh…uhm…I…I think…I don’t mean to be rude, buddy, b-but…you know, it’s…ah…not finished” Prompto excused himself with a little laugh of nerves, that the man understood as shyness. “I…not that one. Sorry…”  
“It’s fine” Ignis said with a comforting smile for his friend. He really did not mind, but he would not deny he still felt curious.   
“B-but I wanted to show you a specific one!” Prompto hurried almost as if to change subject. As he spoke, he started hopping closer to the canvas centered, the one covered with a cloth. “I’m kinda proud on it, so I wanted to show you! Still not finished, but…”

Ignis stayed quiet and patient. Soon enough, the candelabra took the cloth and removed it gently enough not to accidentally pull the canvas down, revealing the painting. The human blinked once and involuntarily widened a small smile again, and his eyes started scanning the whole thing.  
It was Noctis.   
A portray that showed Noctis the clock looking at the viewer, the hands behind himself, expression soft even if not necessarily cheerful. The painting followed the same theme than the entire castle and Noctis himself; black and blue shades everywhere. His black wood, the golden details, it was all there. Prompto had even added the tiny, subtle crackle on the wood of his left leg. Even though it was all done with paint, his needles literally looked as if made with a different material than the rest of the clock. Which was a perfect mirror to real life. The way the needles pointed to not obstruct his eyes almost made it seem, if Ignis looked at it with imagination, as if those were working as a groomed but outdated mustache. The Noctis of the painting had his always beautiful blue eyes as detailed as in real life; as big, as soft, as bright, as round. Like the night caged in two ovals.

Ignis looked at it in complete silence, smiling, eyes going from left to right and everywhere that it could find on the canvas. A few parts of the details on his sides were missing, as well as a few spots of the background that stayed blank. But it was a mostly finished painting. And a very precise, detailed one. The man kept looking at it, leaning closer, amazed. He spent more and more moments doing but looking at the painting, and after a while like that he turned to look at the candelabra. Prompto offered him an excited but rather humble, shy look. Ignis looked again at the painting and his smile grew wider.   
“I do not have the appropriate words, Prompto” Ignis said. “This is stunning. Perfectly detailed, wonderfully traced. It could pass as the real him. Even this close and with my spectacles on.”  
“You think so?” Prompto asked lowly but hopeful, face brightening. Ignis looked at him and nodded, before his eyes went back to the painting.  
“This is wonderful. I had no idea you were this skilled and talented.” 

He looked again at the candelabra. The latter offered a little laugh of pride, and the flames of his candles grew noticeably even if remaining harmless. He looked very motivated.   
“Thanks, buddy!” Prompto said as happily as he looked. “I’m almost done with it! It’s a gift for Noct. Can’t wait to see his reaction.”  
“Any special occasion?” Ignis asked him casually. While he spoke, Prompto had turned to face the painting.   
“Uh huh!” the candelabra nodded. “August’s gonna fly by, so I want to have this ready for his…” there was a pause after that. Ignis looked at his friend with patience and a little curiosity. Prompto kept slightly widened eyes on his painting, and he seemed to be thinking about something. “…for…his…favorite day!”  
“Which may be…?” Ignis continued only seeking for some friendly conversation, a bit oblivious to the candelabra’s nerves.   
“Uh…F-Friday!” Prompto let out with a nervous laugh. “Y-you know, maybe not this Friday, not necessarily next one either, I just…the month has nothing to do, either, why should it? I just…wanted to gift this to him soon on some…Friday. Any Friday, really” he continued excusing and explaining, finishing his words with yet another of his little but utterly nervous laughs.

Ignis found his friend to be behaving a bit oddly, but he did not question him. He tagged it to be shyness and a bit embarrassment from showing his paintings to the man for the first time, so Ignis paid no major attention to the nervousness.   
“Well, I am very amazed about everything of this painting” Ignis told him, eyes returning to the fake clock that was looking back at him. “I’m positive Noct will love and appreciate it very, very dearly.”  
“You think so, buddy?” Prompto asked him with the voice going a bit quieter but the rush still present. Ignis looked back at him again, smiling. This seemed like an immensely important and meaningful thing for the candelabra.   
“I’m sure.”

Prompto smiled up at him, both with motivation and gratitude. Ignis returned the glance, softer on his side, as well as the curve on his lips. They shared only a few moments like that before there was a little clicking noise coming from outside, subtler than the metal of Prompto but still present. The clicking was replaced by the sound of the knob turning and the door opening. Ignis looked over his shoulder in time to see the little clock standing outside, looking up at someone or something else. Losing no time, and while Noctis thanked somebody outside for opening the door for him, Ignis reached for the other canvas, the one of a flowery landscape, and set it in front of the portrait to hide the latter. Prompto made sure it was well hidden and gifted the man a hurried and nervous but grateful smile, staying quiet. Soon enough, Noctis was inside, closing the door again.  
“Phew” he exhaled, probably from the walk he had to take to get there. “So you finally showed Specs, huh.”  
“Uh huh” the candelabra nodded. “I-I uh…just wanted to show him around.”  
“Nice” Noctis was saying while waddling his way towards them. “So? Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”  
“Pretty amazing, indeed” Ignis replied with a small nod, leaning down to pick Noctis from the floor. Despite the danger, Ignis put him at a side of Prompto, the hidden canvas only some feet away.

But the clock never once looked over his shoulder. Ignis smiled internally to himself; he had really grown to know him quite good, enough to know the clock would suspect if they put him too far from the evidence but would not bat an eyelash if he was right at its side. A bit silly, but adorable.  
“Got a favorite, Specs?” Noctis asked. “I can’t pick. But the one with…” he paused for a moment. “Nope. Can’t pick.”  
“I haven’t had time enough to look at all them with calm” Ignis admitted. “But perhaps Prompto could allow me one day?”  
At the question, the candelabra nodded at him as happily as before. Ignis smiled at him and silently thanked him. 

“Say, Specs, Gladio said you were looking for us” Noctis said with a sigh. “Anything the matter? Or were you just bored?”  
“Right, I was…” Ignis, remembering what he had been doing in the first place before any of this had interrupted, cleared his throat and felt himself become a little startled. “I wondered…I believe I’m in need of a little aid.”  
“Oh?” Prompto blinked up at him. “That so? You could’ve said that earlier, buddy! What is it?”  
“I have been thinking…maybe a little too much, lately…” Ignis started explaining. His voice had gone slightly quieter. He stayed quiet some moments, reaching a hand up to push his glasses up his nose as if to make time, and looked away for a moment. “I came to realize that…I wish to…do something for Gladiolus. As a token of gratitude for allowing me in the library.”

Prompto and Noctis looked at him with slightly widened eyes, in complete silence. A few moments later they shared a quick glance together, before their gazes returned to the man.  
“I…believe that this _is_ something I must show gratitude for in return” Ignis tried to excuse himself, starting to explain. “Giving me a room, allowing me two meals, opening windows and letting me train are necessities, not kind gestures. All those things are meant to be positive for my health, which is a basic attention from a host to his guest” he stated almost as if quoting. “All those are a necessity, and not a gesture I should feel flattered or grateful for” once said that, his expression suddenly softened a little more and his eyes went down. “…but the library…” he paused in there. In the small silence, Noctis and Prompto shared another shocked glance. “…the library was not a necessity. Not a physical one. There was…nothing that could impulse him to give me that with a formal reason. There was no necessity of giving that to me…and yet, he did.”

None the candelabra nor the clock had an idea what to say or how to react to Ignis’ sudden softness in the way he spoke about Gladio, so they were grateful the man continued speaking instead of waiting for an answer.  
“It was a very polite action from his side, and now, knowing that the library is so dear to him, I believe this is a very, very kind thing from him to do for me rather than only a formality” Ignis could not help and maybe did not notice the little smile as he spoke. “And I want to thank him. You are aware, only as a…guest-to-host detail. But still, I would like to give or do something in return as a token of gratitude. But I’ve come to the realization that I know him very little, so I thought you both could aid me in this. To tell me what could be appropriate for this situation.”

There was some silence afterwards. Ignis did not seem to have much more to say, but the other two seemed to not have an idea what to reply.  
“Wow…Ignis, this is like the first time I’ve heard you talk this much” Prompto said as if that was the main point. Noctis smiled and looked away; he could not say the same. “Must be pretty important to you.”  
“In a guest-to-host way, it is” Ignis insisted.   
“Something to thank him” Prompto murmured more to himself, staring down and thinking. Noctis let out a little ‘Heh’ with satisfaction.   
“Two words; dinner.”  
“That’s one word, Noct.”  
“There’s nothing he likes best in the world that a nice meal” Noctis continued as if not having heard the previous interruption. “Prom and I were keeping it for a special moment or for some time Big Guy would need to relax, but I think it’d be a good ‘token of gratitude’ as you call it.”  
“That was a very poor impression of my voice.”  
“You don’t mean…?” Prompto said with a little surprised, looking at his friend. Noctis nodded at him. “Man, he’s going to _die.”_

“May I know what you’re talking about, gentlemen?” Ignis requested. Both the friends looked up at him, smiling each their way.   
“The other day, at the market, we got Gladio’s favorite food” Prompto explained. “It’s been literally _years_ since he last had it” he laughed. “Now _that’s_ what I call being grateful!”  
“I cook for him every day” Ignis reminded them, eyebrows furrowing a bit. “Isn’t this going to be repetitive?” he paused and answered himself. “Then again, if it’s his favorite food and he has not tasted it in years…”  
“Oh, there couldn’t be a bigger ‘token of gratitude’, Specs, trust us” Noctis said and the man did not complain at the impression of his voice. “Wanna show him you’re thankful, you go cook that tonight. He’ll love it.”  
“Man, I can’t miss his face when he tries it” Prompto said. “I’m gonna look at his reaction then go tell you how it went, Ignis. You’ll see he’ll love it.”

“I…shall trust you both” Ignis said after a little silence between them all. “After all, you do know him better than I” he smiled at them. “Thank you for your aid. Can I expect you’ll aid me at the kitchen tonight?”  
“Darn right we will!” Prompto cheered. “Right, Noct?” by any answer, the clock sighed and crossed the arms, saying something about ‘not doing this for you or anything’, in his indirect, slightly rude way of saying he was in. Ignis could only smile at them.

When he looked away, his eyes landed on the painting of the flowery landscape with the river in the distance. Ignis had not noticed, until now that it had called for his eyes, the little white spot on a corner, right at a side of the river.   
“…Argentum.”  
At the calling of the name, the furniture friends shut their friendly fight and could not help a tiny gasp, too subtle to be heard. They froze and shared a terrified glance, before looking up at Ignis. They found the man staring at the painting, so both turned to look as well. There it was, Prompto’s signature on the finished painting. The friends shared a glance again, not knowing at all what to do.   
“Hm…now, that sounds familiar to me…what was it?” Ignis was reflecting to himself, staring away, lost in his head. The other two, on their side, shared yet another glance of bigger confusion and some fear, not understanding; Prompto was a commoner, so there was no way Ignis could have heard his name before, let alone remember anything about it. Right? While thinking about it, and before they could come up with an excuse, Ignis snapped his fingers. “Ah, right! The silver store!”

The furniture friends reacted to that, each their way. The fear of Ignis remembering anything about the curse was gone, but now there was a completely new understanding and change of air. When they understood and heard that, Noctis froze for a moment, before he turned to look at Prompto. His friend, of course, had reacted as well. He stood frozen, but with wide eyes on the man. Wide, hopeful eyes. The clock kept looking at his friend in silence; Prompto could do but look at Ignis as if though the man was a god or an angel, mouth opened. Noctis, some moments into it, stared down.   
“…a silver store?” Prompto called in almost a murmur. Ignis looked down at him and nodded.   
“Why have you signed this ‘Argentum’, Prompto?” Ignis asked him, completely oblivious to what was going on in the friends’ minds. “I thought you lot didn’t have any last names.”  
“…a-ah…we…we don’t” Prompto hurried. Noctis subtly looked at him, a bit impressed at the way his friend was handling the shock. “I just…once heard the word and I…liked the sound of it” the candelabra laughed lowly. “So I…took it as my…uhm…artist name.”  
“A pseudonym” Ignis called and nodded. “It sounds very nice, indeed.”

There was some silence again, in which Prompto did but stare at him.   
“Uhm…Ignis…s-so…is Argentum also a store?” Prompto asked as if casually retaking the conversation, smiling. “What do they…sell?”  
“Silver crafts and jewelry” Ignis commented. “It’s in Northwestern Insomnia. I have visited only a few times, but they seem to always have high quality in their work.”  
“Oh, I see…” Prompto exhaled. He looked around as if trying to find a way to keep talking about it. “And…and…who…why is it called ‘Argentum’? Is that…the name of the owners or something?”  
“Hm…” Ignis looked up, clearly looking into all the archives of his head. He took longer than maybe the candelabra wished, but he did not go upset, but rather more eager with each second that Ignis took. Soon enough, there was a gleam of recognition in Ignis’ eyes, and he looked back down at Prompto. “Well, it _was_ the last name of the original owners.”  
“…it…was…?” Prompto asked in a murmur after a pause. His body stayed tense, eager, but his expression had softened. Noctis, uncomfortable, looked down again. 

Ignis nodded at him, but as the candelabra kept staring he guessed he was asked for more information, so he gave it away.  
“I am unaware if you lot had already come to life already, but precisely five years ago there was an invasion from another country called Niflheim” Ignis explained to them, and the friends patiently let him, even when they better than anyone knew about that. “There was massive destruction and genocide in Insomnia; it used to be one huge city, but it got reduced to ten different sections due to the reduce of population and buildings” even that, the furniture knew. That they had spent most of their time inside the castle did not mean Noctis had not sent people to look over the situation outside. Still, hearing it again made him frown and hide his fists behind himself, fighting inside not to burst out in anger. “Apparently, the Argentum were not as fortunate as many of us. But their bodies were found and properly buried. I ignore the details, since I do not live nearby their store nor was I ever in direct contact with them, and they weren’t particularly famous, but the stories spread like fire among the towns, and that is what I’ve heard” he made a little pause to stare away, again looking into the archives of his mind. “It’s also said that, in their house, they found a room that seemed to belong to a male teenager, but nobody remembers the Argentum ever had a son, and nobody ever claimed any of the things found there…so, perhaps, people assume they used to rent that room to a young male who shared their same destiny. The store was later on taken by an intimate friend of theirs, who continues the business. That is what I know, but, I repeat, I ignore the details and haven’t inquired in it myself.”

Ignis stayed quiet. He was not sure of why, but there was a long-lasting silence after that, as if he had just said something important and he was the only one that could not notice. Noctis hesitated between looking at nowhere on the table or up on his friend, looking himself as if a bit scared that Prompto would catch him staring. The candelabra, on his part, could not take his eyes off the man. He did not blink. His ‘shoulders’ untensed and went down, but even then Prompto did not show any reaction in the face. Right as Ignis started understanding something was wrong, but before he could ask anything, Prompto looked away.  
“Oh…I see” he said calmly. “I…what a story, huh?” he asked and gave the man a smile. “Who knew. What a coincidence, with my choice of signature, huh?” he asked again and gave an uncomfortable laugh. Even though it sounded real, Ignis, for some reason, could not buy it. Noctis looked serious at a side of his friend. “I uhm…” Prompto continued. “I think…I’ll…I’ll go see what Big Guy is doing” he informed with a happy smile, and started hopping to an edge of the table to later on jump to a lower chair. “Don’t want him to figure we’re planning a surprise for him, right? Would spoil it.”

The candelabra was speaking as he made his way to the floor himself, calmly hopping towards the door.   
“Well, thanks again for seeing my paintings, Ignis!” he thanked cheerfully, reaching the door. “Gonna show you more another day” he smiled and then looked up at the knob. “Uhm…mind if you open it for me, Specs?”  
Ignis approached without a word. He opened the door for the candelabra, who looked up at him and smiled brightly.  
“Thanks!” he said. “See you later, guys!”

With that, Prompto hopped outside and started leaving through the hallway. Ignis watched him for a couple of moments until the candelabra rounded a corner, and then the man returned to the inside of the room. Noctis was still in his same spot on the table, as serious as before.   
“He seemed pretty odd to me” Ignis told the clock after returning to his side. “Is he alright?”  
“Yeah” Noctis said with a lazy sigh. “He’s odd the whole time. What seemed off to you?” Ignis shrugged lightly after a little pause. “He looks normal to me.”   
There was yet another pause. Ignis, a bit insecure but trusting in the clock, merely nodded. They spent some moments in silence before Noctis started approaching the edge of the table as well.  
“Specs, mind if you put me down? Gonna go make sure Prom doesn’t get stuck somewhere or falls off the staircase again.”  
Ignis, again silent, took the clock and put him on the floor, close to the door. Noctis exhaled when he was put down.  
“Not sure how Prom survives without me.”  
“And I’m not sure how he does _with_ you” Ignis told him now that the mood was lighter. “You get in more troubles than he does, are you aware?”  
“Not true” Noctis argued back, waddling to the outside. 

Ignis only snorted a little chuckle and looked back at the studio and all the canvases around. His eyes traveled on them for a little longer, before he exited and closed the door behind himself, hoping the candelabra would indeed show him more one day.  
The man decided to go make some time until night hit, and parted ways with a clock that left to go look for his alright friend.

\--

Ignis was not sure he was entirely content, or if he was at least impressed, with the choice of favorite meal by the beast. Out of his looks, anyone could guess that there was nothing in the world he loved more than some giant piece of raw behemoth meat…so Ignis had no idea how to react when he learned that the fur-covered teen-garula sized with behemoth fangs and horns creature apparently would murder for some pasta.  
Still, the man decided not to question anything. Even though he had already allowed Gladiolus to stay nearby the past days while he was cooking, that night the furniture friends were distracting the beast somewhere else while he was aided by some others in the kitchen. Ignis was not the biggest fan of this sort of pasta, but every once in a while was very nice, so he offered no complaints. He did not remember the last time he had had this dish, so he calmly cooked, still a bit bugged only by that strange sensation of how incongruous this felt; that the beast loved pasta was like thinking of a little butterfly enjoying to rip the raw meat off other animals and chew it loudly, only the other way around. If acting scary was a contest, Gladiolus was losing, and very miserably, Ignis thought.

He made sure to cook the pasta properly and to spice it as deliciously as he could think about. He boiled the pasta as best as he thought it could be, added what was required to add, tasted, corrected, spiced, and continued until it was prepared. He let it cool slightly before he served the usual amounts on the two dishes; normal to him, twice the quantity for the beast. He looked at his work and still did not understand just why this was Gladiolus’ favorite, but, again, insisted that was not of any importance at all. Soon enough, he heard the door of the dining room open. He looked over his shoulder and found Gladiolus entering, with an overexcited Iris and Talcott coming behind him singing some children song about cactuars. Gladio looked a bit stressed in a non-serious way. The beast was heading to the kitchen when he stopped and looked back at the tea set, asking them to stop at once. 

They did and ran away while laughing as if they had just done a prank. Gladio sighed and shook the head, rolling the eyes but not helping a smile. He found Ignis looking at him from over his shoulder.  
“These two have been singing that in my ear for an hour” Gladio said as if explaining while pointing behind with himself a thumb. “Sorry for the delay, Kitchen Prince.”  
“That’s fine” Ignis said lowly and looked back at the counter, giving his back to the beast and looking again at the dishes, adding a last spice to them. “I’m just done.”  
“Perfect! So what are we…” Gladio had started to ask but stopped mid question. Ignis stayed quiet and a bit frozen, not understanding why he felt a bit nervous. He heard the beast sniffle in twice. “…that smell…I…is that…?” he was murmuring to himself, and Ignis tensed a little when he felt the beast’s eyes on him. “Ignis…what did you cook? It smells oddly similar to…”

Ignis did not reply. Instead, he took the beast’s big bowl with both hands, sensing the heat of it through his gloves, and took in a breath. He let it out subtly and softly, before he turned around. Gladio was slowly sitting down at his usual chair, staring at nowhere in the air while still sniffling. Ignis stood still for a moment before sighing very subtly again and starting to approach him. Once nearby, Gladio turned to look at him, looking confused and as if though he was about to ask something. Ignis looked at him and stood at his side for a few seconds, before he put the eyes away at the time he, for the first time, settled the bowl on the table instead of handing it to the beast to do it himself. Ignis let go and stood back on his place again. Gladio looked down at the dish.  
And he suddenly gasped.

Ignis had turned to head back to the kitchen, but stopped and looked over his shoulder. Gladio was looking at the dish merely inches apart, hands on the table and body almost up from the chair.  
“…it’s _noodles!”_ Gladio said in a way that sounded as if though he had tried to scream but it had come out as a thread of a voice. Ignis looked at him with the eyebrows furrowed; the expression was still slightly severe like every day, but he looked utterly confused. “It’s _noodles!_ ” Gladio repeated and his hands flew up to his face, where the claws buried a little and pulled from his skin. Ignis wondered if that did not hurt and only looked at him with a little more intensity. Gladio looked around as if desperately needing of anybody’s help and finding no one, now stood from the chair. The beast started hurriedly walking to a side. “It’s _noodles!!”_

Ignis was not sure what to think; he had expected a reaction, maybe some surprise, but this was absolute shock from the beast, who walked on a stupid and senseless circle, hands pulling from his face, before hurriedly returning to his chair to look again at the dish. He repeated what was apparently the only thing he now knew to say, and he hurried to sit down without taking his eyes off the dish. Ignis looked at him and away with an expression that anyone that could see him would tag as disgust, and the man merely gave him his back again and continued going to the kitchen. Gladio groaned and hissed almost as if this exasperated him, and fixed the eyes again on the hot bowl in front of him.   
“It’s noodles, Ignis!” Gladio said but did not take his eyes off his food. “It’s- oh gods, oh…gods…”  
Soon enough, Ignis was in the kitchen again. He looked at his own dish and looked a last time over his shoulder at the beast.

A glass offered a fork to Gladio. And he accepted it. Ignis remembered the first and any other times he had seen the beast eat; he used hands and mouth like a starving dog. It was a disgusting, very disgusting sight that Ignis had not wished for a single second to witness again. But there, staring at the noodles, Gladio had accepted a fork almost like he was used to that. A bit dumbly and brute, but he was holding it. Ignis watched, interested and confused, and a bit disgusted if he was sincere, while the beast looked at his dish like it held the secret of the universe. A few moments later, Gladio dipped the fork in the bowl and tried to tangle some noodles in the utensil. He failed and his hands, too big for the fork, accidentally dropped it. He tried again, with an awkward holding of it, and he brought the noodles up. He closed the eyes softly and sniffled them. Once done, he let out a groan of hunger and satisfaction.

When the food reached the beast’s mouth, Ignis looked away and realized he was taking longer than usual on disappearing. His token of gratitude was done and complete, he had nothing else to do there. He took his own bowl and a fork and turned to face the side door of the kitchen…but he did not move. And he found himself turning to look at Gladiolus again.   
The beast was slurping in quite an number of noodles all at once, very slowly, taking his time. Ignis furrowed the eyebrows; that was quite a barbaric thing, to have such number of noodles in-mouth all at once, slurping them in like that…still, he did not look away. Gladio was doing it slow and rather…civilized. Ignis expression of discomfort deepened, but he was suddenly realizing Gladio did not really look _that_ disgusting and that he was eating normally, realizing the discomfort was not by what he was seeing but rather by what he was thinking. He was losing the head. He was going mad, he could not be serious with himself, he could not…  
He got a bit distracted when Gladio slurped in the end of the noodles and swallowed them. The beast let go of the fork and let out a loud, maybe exaggerated groan, leaning back on the chair and hiding his face in his hands while still groaning. Ignis watched for a few moments, seeing as Gladio kicked the floor with his heels like a child in tantrum.  
“It’s so _good_ , holy tits of Shiva, this is _so good_ …” Gladio said in a groan before returning to a normal position on the chair, reaching again for the fork and staring at the bowl with intensity. Eventually, he started wrapping the noodles in the fork again, smiling brightly. 

Ignis looked at him. He looked at the side door of the kitchen…and he hesitated. _It’s not so hard, just start walking, like every day. Just leave_ , he ordered to himself, but ended up looking back at the beast. _You can’t be serious, Ignis, just get out of there at once. Your food will cool down. You’re done here, nothing left to do. You have no reason to even be considering this. Do not do it. Do not._  
He looked back again. He watched Gladio slurp in a few more noodles and lean back on the chair again with a hiss of satisfaction. He still took his time in each slurp as if wanting to taste every millimeter of the pasta. Ignis looked at him a few more moments, then again at the side door. He sighed and closed the eyes, shaking the head to himself.

 

Gladio, on his side, had long forgotten about him. About everything else. Dear gods, he was eating _noodles._ Hot, just cooked noodles. After the curse was casted, there had been enough noodles for a couple months, almost a year, but after that he had spent the while hunting for meat and collecting vegetables. Pasta was not something to be found just like that in the wild. For a moment he thanked and blessed Noctis and Prompto for their illegal, dangerous go to the human market, and he did not regret to have thought that as he ate. Anybody was happy with their favorite meal, but only Gladio was as passionate about eating as only an Amicitia could be. It was in his genes, he was not to blame, he insisted every time he devoured things like desperate; he had a wild appetite, even as a human. To be eating was good enough; make it his favorite meal, a thousand times better; but to give him his favorite meal after four years of missing it…that was like touching heaven and not ever come back to the ground so long he was eating it.

He had thought Ignis was already gone, so he had not waited to start eating. No way would he wait. He could thank the human later, when he saw him again after each had had their dinner, but right now only his food mattered. He was so used to just eat directly from the dish or use his hands that he found a few troubles with the fork, but he got a grasp of it pretty soon. There was no way he was going to take the noodles in his hands and rush his eating; this had to be slow, very slow and perfect. Or so was his philosophy, as a food passionate. He wanted every inch to be perfect, he wanted to taste it like it was the first time ever. He would take his time. This was _heaven._

His friends stood around, content just watching him. Gladio happily ate and did little noises with each noodle that he swallowed, taking his time between each bite in. Nobody said anything; he was too satisfied and enjoyed with so much pleasure of his dish that saying something or doing any noise would have bothered with the perfection of the moment.  
But the silence only lasted for a couple of minutes.  
While Gladio was humming in satisfaction after a taste of his food, there were some steps nearby. He, still lost in the pleasure of his meal, brought more noodles up and put them to his mouth, and started very slowly slurping…but he stopped midways when he was aware of the footsteps, and when the figure came to his sight.  
At the other side of the table, and about four seats of distance from him, Ignis appeared to his sight. Gladio watched him frozen, noodles still hanging from his mouth but not slurping in or out. _He won’t dare._

Ignis, then, gently put his own dish on the table and pulled from a chair.

The furniture did not even try to be subtle on their surprise; from Iris to Noctis, the four friends gathered around let their mouths fully open as if though their jaws had fallen, and the eyes went fully wide, as if the man had just stripped himself naked in there or something as shocking instead of such a little thing. Or what seemed as such a ‘little’ thing. Gladio gave wide eyes at him as well, body and mind entirely, completely frozen. Everyone, as shocked and not trying to hide it, looked as Ignis eventually sat down and pulled the chair closer to the table, taking a seat at it. He was not looking at any of them. He, calmly and taking his time, finished sitting down and took his own fork from his bowl. Only then did he look up. Luna had the mouth fully opened but also smiled while looking at the scene from a nearby cart, at a side of a very shocked Iris that could not even blink and only looked at him with eyes and mouth opened. Noctis and Prompto, standing together at the far end of the table, gave him the same shocked look.   
They had told him to cook something, but this…this was fully Ignis’ own idea and decision.  
Ignis chose on free will to sit for dinner with Gladiolus.  
The man looked last at Gladio, four seats away and across the table, but at the same table, in the end.

Ignis gave him an uncomfortable, slightly forced smile and a half nod.  
“…may you enjoy” Ignis said the unnecessary etiquette, lowly-almost-a-murmur and still looking quite uncomfortable, but never once did he look as if trying to stand back up. Gladio still stared at him with the same shock than before, unable to move or do anything. Ignis looked at him with some insecurity and the same slight disgust than before, and eventually moved the eyes to his own bowl. Gladio tried to react and could not, until his mouth opened by itself and he dropped the noodles that were hanging from it. Only with the splash of the noodles back in the bowl did he react, moving slightly up on his chair and letting go of his fork.  
“Uh…” Gladio let out dumbly and lowly, staring at his sides like seeking for help, before putting the head down. Ignis, on his side, only occasionally glanced at him and slowly tangled his own noodles in his fork. The beast looked back up at him, eyes still wide and brain going dead. 

The dining room went terribly and uncomfortably quiet. Ignis still tangled his noodles, looking hesitant on whether he had to eat them or not, and Gladio only stared at him with shock. Eventually, Gladio looked away and moved a hand up to hide his mouth, clearing his throat.  
“Uhm…” he still hesitated. “M-may…uh…you too.”  
Ignis forced another small smile to him for a moment, and still toyed with his noodles. The beast kept looking at him for some moments, before he shook lightly the head and looked back at his bowl. If he ignored the man it was almost like he did not exist, or like he was not there. Like he was not there…sat at the same table…having dinner….  
 _Having dinner with me…_

Gladio still did not move. His favorite meal waited for him there, in front of him, but so did Ignis. The beast looked at one and the other before at nowhere at all, not sure of what he was meant to do or say or not do or not say. He still looked around a little, trying to find help or support from somewhere. Noctis and Prompto could only look with shock at Ignis, mouth opened. Gladio looked around a little more, and spotted Luna somewhere else without having to turn too much. The duster, a bit too excited, nodded at him and then made gestures towards his bowl, a little hard counting with no arms herself. Iris, at her side, only looked at Gladio with the same shocked expression than the clock and the candelabra. Gladio’s eyebrows furrowed with some insecurity while looking at Luna, deciphering what she meant. He looked at Ignis, who looked at his own dish, still uncomfortable and silent, the fork still dancing in among the noodles like a shy or sad kid.

Gladio, taking the silent suggestion from Luna, cleared his throat again and started tangling his own noodles in the fork. Ignis subtly but noticeably looked at him. The beast reminded to himself to keep it cool, to not do anything stupid, that he had control of the situation, and he made sure to remind that to himself as many times as necessary while tangling the pasta. Soon enough, he brought it up to his mouth, but turned to look at Ignis. When the man was caught staring, he looked away, not trying to hide it. Gladio looked down at his fork, still a bit insecure.  
 _You’ve got this, big guy. You’ve got this, just go slow. Don’t make him think you’re a brute, you’ve got this. It’s just dinner. Just dinner. Together. Holy shit, he sat down with me, what is he planning? This makes no sense, why would he do that?_  
A bit startled at his own thoughts, Gladio rushed at the speed of light to drown those last thoughts. They made him unnecessarily more nervous than he already was. Trying not to overthink too much, Gladio finished bringing the food to his mouth and took the noodles in it. 

Ignis did not look as he slurped them, but did turn when the sound of it stopped. Gladio chewed only once or twice before swallowing. His lips were a bit dirty from the spices, and were all soaked. It was disgusting…but Ignis did not find himself as upset about it as the first time. He did not find it any pleasant or less disgusting, but he did not have the urge to stand up and leave. Maybe only a little, but he fought with himself to stay cool and not stand up. This was the most civilized he had seen Gladiolus do, and he wanted to show gratitude; the last he had to do was to offend him by sitting only for a second before going away. He either sat down or he left, not one then the other. And now that he was sitting there, there was no turning back.

The man cautiously looked at him and the beast finished swallowing before forcing a grin to him. Ignis found the sight to be a little stupid, but could not help a little smile in return. He looked down at his noodles again and brought the fork up, taking in a slurp himself, much more careful and smaller than that of the beast. Gladio felt a bit stupid. The commoner was Ignis, yet every single detail of everything he did looked like royalty. He did not even seem to be doing that on purpose. Gladio tried not to compare him to himself and tried to stay cool. Okay, Ignis had taken in his first taste, so Luna was right; he only had to eat, show it was fine to dine together…  
 _It’s dinner together. He sat with me. What do I do?_  
Just eat. That was everything, he reminded to himself. Just eat, be calm, slow, and Ignis would have no reason to go away. And, besides, so what if he did leave? It was not necessary they had dinner together, after all…but Gladio did feel a little worried on the matter. He did not particularly want Ignis sat there, but it was not like he wanted him to leave, either. 

Gladio took in another set of noodles and swallowed again, but paused for a few moments afterwards. He was not sure this was happening, and only had one question. _’Why?’_ He looked up at the man and opened the mouth to formulate the question, but he found Ignis to look very uncomfortable, enough to make Gladio not want to put him through even more discomfort. So he said nothing. Ignis did look up when he thought Gladio had something to say, but the beast only smiled at him again before focusing again on the noodles. Ignis looked away as well and did the same. 

The furniture only watched in silence. That was the quietest and most awkward dinner they had ever witnessed. Even back when there was the banquet during Niflheim’s visit, that had been constant tension, but this was just _awkward_. Still, none complained or said anything about it. Some moments into it, Gladio decided to half-forget about Ignis again and got carried away by the taste of the noodles, inevitable and thank the gods. Ignis, half-ignored, felt much more secure to keep eating as well. He did not say it in any moment later on, but the sounds and expressions Gladiolus was making, while disgusting to some extent, were…somehow…flattering to the chef. 

Ignis did not ask him if he enjoyed it once they were done and had come to their ritual of biding goodbye at the landing of the staircase where they parted ways, nor did he say anything about their first dinner together.

All that he did was to bow the head, and wished Gladiolus a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested in it, I could write a separate work containing a small scene of what happened after Prompto leaves his studio and Noctis goes look for him.
> 
> It has no major affectation in the main story or in the in-process Gladnis, and would be only a Noctis & Prompto interaction (not a Promptis, not necessarily), as a mirror to the "Motel Roof scene" of the game.
> 
> If you're interested, please do let me know. Depending on how many people would like to see that tiny story I'll decide whether to write it or not. 
> 
> Thanks :)


	16. Kindness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Share the story if you think others would like it! Enjoy of this chapter! :)

The questioning of that night was, of course, all directed to Ignis. 

The man himself looked rather troubled, like he had even more questions than all and any that the furniture were showering him with that night. Even Iris had gone spend a while with the man instead of leaving with Gladio to the room they often shared. Everyone, including Luna herself, were showering Ignis with question after question without giving him space enough to answer one when they had already come to ask another thing. But the usual quartet of friends always landed on the same common factor. _’Why’_.   
“Listen, it is not that I don’t enjoy of our conversation, but I do ask you lot to please stop the bombarding for a moment and let me answer one thing at time, thank you” Ignis finally put a halt to them, putting a palm up and looking away for a moment. “I myself am rather troubled, so if you could all please allow me some space, that would be wonderful.”

“Sorry, Specs” Noctis said. “It’s just that it was shocking, you know? The last thing any of us was expecting to happen.”  
“You sat down with Gladio for dinner, buddy” Prompto told him as if there was any need to remind him. Ignis looked away, focused in dressing in his usual silk pajamas. He had to give credit to the furniture for that; they always waited until he had bathed and put at least pants on before bombarding him with questions. Then again, he reflected, maybe it was because they waited and bottled the questions up that the bombarding happened all at once. “That was so weird- but weird as in, not as in something bad, just…unexpected, you know?”   
“I too am quite curious, mister Ignis” Luna had to agree with the rest, she with a bit of a too happy look on her face for Ignis to fully comprehend, but he did not question her. “I had realized you had softened a bit about him, but I still was not expecting you’d ever sit down for dinner with him…let alone by your own decision!”  
“It was…unexpected, yes” Iris agreed, she, in contrast to Luna, looking still a bit shocked, no smile. “Why’d you do that? I thought…I thought you…found him to be…disgusting or something…”

“…and I do” Ignis admitted to them, once again having to look away. He had this look upon his face of complete discomfort, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m always sincere with you lot and this is no exception; it’s truly brutal to watch him eat. And this time, I dare say, he behaved the best he could and has done in his life” the furniture shared a couple glances; if they saw ‘his life’ counting only since he turned into beast, then yes, this was one of the best-behaved meals he had had. Still, they said nothing and only looked at him. “Never did I say I enjoyed dinner with him.”  
“…but…then…why didn’t you just stand up and leave?” Iris asked him, slight frown on her face. “If you were so disgusted…”  
“Because…” Ignis had started with the word let out as if though almost a yelp, like he had a full answer prepared. Turned out to be that he had none and he stopped there, pausing. He looked at the four friends, all on a nearby drawer, watching him. He sighed and closed the eyes for a moment. “It would have been…rude on my side. I couldn’t stand up after having just sat down…”  
“But why did you sit down in the first place?” Noctis urged yet again. 

Ignis, currently sat at the edge of his bed, looked at his own hands resting at his lap. It was oddly comfortable, to wear pajamas a size bigger than he was. At first, he had been majorly bothered by that and had requested the furniture looked for something his exact size, but whether they found none (which Ignis highly doubted, they were in a huge castle full of stuff and abandoned clothes) or just forgot or were lazy or did it on purpose, he had no idea, and he ended up with this white-slightly-grey silk pajamas a size bigger. It looked normal, but Ignis, too extremely used to precise patterns, precise measures, precise everything, had been concerned like this was a death issue. But now, after such a long time wearing them…he found them to be one of his favorite parts of the day, dressing in them. It was comfortable as he had never slept before. Not to say he had a bed twice the big and five times the softer and three times the warmer than he had ever gotten to experiment. 

_I’m getting used to this,_ he thought. _It’s dangerous. I must not. Remember, this is not your home, no matter how much it’s starting to feel oddly like that. You are a prisoner. It’s just sugarcoated, but this is your cell. You have no freedom._

“Ignis?” Prompto called. “Hello? If you’re trying to pretend you didn’t hear I won’t buy that.”  
“Apologies. I was thinking” Ignis admitted to him, unable to gift any smile at his friends and remembering the subject they were talking about. The man let out a little sigh as if to prepare himself. “Well…I expect you remember I told you earlier today that I wanted to offer something to Gladiolus as a sign of gratitude in return for his kind gesture of allowing me into the library” Ignis explained to both start in some way and to give a little context for Iris and Luna, who, he guessed, already knew from the other pair, but only wanting to make sure. “While your suggestion seemed to have been correct, it still felt…rather uncomplete to me. He did seem pretty satisfied…” he paused and raised the eyebrows, looking at nowhere on the floor. “…more than satisfied, actually…so much more…” he cleared his throat to stop digressing and returning to the main point. “So, yes, the meal for tonight’s dinner was, apparently, pretty satisfying for him…but…”

“But…?” Iris urged him, curious and still confused. Ignis still took a few seconds, sighing and distracting himself by putting socks on.   
“But it did not feel quite enough to me” Ignis explained. “The feeling may come from the fact that I cook for him every morning and night, so despite how much he adored your meal of choice, it still felt like a routine, something so humdrum and normal, when I wanted to offer something else, something _more”_ Ignis continued, eyes busy on his feet as he slipped the socks on, taking his time on each to have an excuse not to look at the furniture, hence not to trigger more of their questions or to feel more awkward than necessary. “And I…remembered that many weeks ago he requested I had dinner with him…” he paused there and looked up. “Well. He did not precisely _request_ it, but the intention was clear, anyway; if he _wanted_ , I have no idea, but he at least _expected_ me to have dinner with him. Of course, I declined for obvious reasons, and I wouldn’t have done it had he not given me a reason” once again, he paused and threw the head slightly back, a hand coming up to the back of his neck to caress it. “…but, the gods damn me, he did.”

Ignis stood up from the edge of the bed to reach for one of the books from the pile he had gathered in there.   
“And how was it?” Prompto asked him while the man pretended to be very focused on the books and his search in them. “Huh? I wanna hear it all, buddy, how was your first dinner with Gladio?”  
“You ask that as if though it is a romantic date” Ignis said with a blank expression and voice, so whether it amused him or was on the opposite a nag, no one had an idea.  
“You didn’t answer, Specs” Noctis said with a little smile. The man, on his side, only subtly looked at them for a moment before picking a random book, pretending to skip through its pages. Even though he did so, he could feel all the eyes on him, so he turned and found the quartet looking at him with full attention. Ignis looked at them for a moment before sighing and staring back at the book.  
“I was very uncomfortable and I almost spit back my own noodles in the form of vomit” Ignis told them. “I tried to force myself to leave, but I am pretty idiotic and decided to sit down” he continued, putting the book aside to reach for another one. “If you ask me, to sit down at the table with a beast is rather unsatisfying and terrifying. He slurps and chows down like an animal, and the constant groaning of satisfaction was rather disturbing and traumatizing. If any of you decides to spend the night in my room I apologize in advance for any nightmares noodle related I may or not have tonight.”

Nobody said a word or moved. The quartet looked at him with eyes as wide as dishes, but the man did not look any disturbed. He kept looking at the books, skipping through pages of one to leave it back on the pile after taking another one, and repeat, as if looking for a specific one.  
“So, do you regret it?” Luna asked him after some moments. Nobody said a word again. At first the furniture had looked at their friend for breaking the silence, then at the man expecting an answer. Ignis kept the eyes on the book he held, but his eyes did not read the words. He looked up and to the quartet, gaze landing on the feathered duster. He gave her a bit of an embarrassed expression, having to subtly look away again.  
“…not precisely” Ignis said as if a bit insecure or not knowing the answer himself, pretending to be busy again with the analyzing of each title of the books he looked at. “I needed to do it to clean my conscience, so I don’t regret it on that side. If your question was more oriented to know if I enjoyed it…” Ignis sighed softly and shortly. “Not precisely, either.”  
“Right” Prompto said with the eyes down, before they moved up to the man, who was still looking at his stuff. “So…does that mean it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing?”  
“Was this the only dinner you’ll ever have with him?” Luna asked him like putting emphasis to the candelabra’s own question. After she spoke, nobody said a word, and Ignis tried to pretend to be distracted, even though he clearly was not thinking about the book he held in hands. 

Some moments later, Ignis sighed and passed a hand through his hair, pushing it back. He looked at the furniture and kept the eyes on them for many seconds, before sighing.   
“…it would…” he stopped to clear his throat and stare away. “…it would be rude from my side to not repeat it. Wouldn’t it?”  
The furniture all showed reaction to that, their bodies tensing and expressions looking as if though lighting up metaphorically. Except Prompto, whose flame on top of the head sparkled once with emphasis, a very literal ‘lighting up’. The four exchanged glances in silence, sharing the same sort of surprise and/or excitement, and looking at the man as if expecting him to say anything. Ignis did not. He merely gave a last look at the books before apparently deciding it would be a night with no reading, and he started making his way towards the bed.   
“What do you mean, mister Ignis?” Luna asked him in a clear attempt of trying to make him talk a bit more. The man did not mind, or did not show so. 

“I mean…I already sat down with him once” Ignis started to explain. “That I do not ever appear for a second dinner could be seen as an unpolite gesture that indirectly indicates I did not enjoy of the first one.”  
“But…you said you didn’t?” Iris asked him, confused.  
“I did not” Ignis confirmed, and the furniture only became more puzzled. “But that I do not personally enjoy of taking dinner with him does not mean I am not grateful for his hospitability as a guest.”  
“Grateful for…” Iris started murmuring, looking down, as if trying to fully understand. _This is the same man that started his stay here sassily complaining about the treatment Gladio gave to him…_  
“Compared to the first weeks I spent in here” Ignis started saying as if having read her thoughts, “I do am grateful now. I mean, it took him…far too long, but he has started…to become…a real host this time” the furniture all paid attention to him. Ignis’ voice had softened oddly enough. The man had paused his words, looking at nowhere as if lost in his head. “…He has started to…finally make me feel welcome, after all.”

_No, Ignis_ , he started chiding himself in his own head right as soon as he had finished speaking. It was double-nag, for it was not usual in him to talk without thinking it before he opened the mouth.   
Still, he really had to admit, it was starting to become incredibly comfortable. 

“Well…I’m glad you’re feeling that way” Luna said after some moments in silence, bringing the man out of his thoughts. Ignis, in silence, started removing the sheets of the bed. “You do are very welcome in here, and we’re at your service.”  
“Yeah, uh…” Noctis started saying, a hand up to scratch at one of his needles. “We uh…whatever you need, just ask, Specs.”  
“About that second dinner” Prompto retook the conversation, “does that mean you’ll start having daily dinner with him? What about breakfast?”  
“Breakfast does not feel like a necessary etiquette, and I do am willing to start my day without being previously disturbed, so I should skip it” Ignis said, sitting at the edge of the bed and crossing the legs. “But dinner requires of the etiquette. I…will see if I turn it into a…daily matter” he cleared his throat yet again. “I shall sit down with him once more, but if it turns into too much for me to handle, I may as well excuse myself and put a stop.”  
“What would be ‘too much to handle’, though?” Noctis asked him.   
“It’s…the way he eats…” Ignis looked down, and his expression changed a bit, like something nearby smelled awful. “…you may not notice from the years you’ve spent with him, but…it’s rather…brutal. And disturbing.”

“Right” Prompto said with a little laugh. “So Big Guy only needs to behave at the table and you’d have dinner with him more often, right?”  
“Why is it such an important matter for you, Prompto?” Ignis asked his friend with a tiny smile and furrowed eyebrows.   
“I don’t know if important” the candelabra shrugged, “but curious, for sure!” Ignis only furrowed the eyebrows a little more without letting his smile fade. “Just you give him a chance, Specs, you’ll see he behaves like a gentleman!”  
“That, I doubt” Ignis said with a lift of the eyebrows. “But that doesn’t mean he can’t behave like only a man. I shall find out tomorrow, I guess…”  
“Of course!” Luna said cheerfully. “This is so kind and wonderful from your part, mister Ignis, to give Gladiolus a chance. Please, do be patient. You seem to have grown a little less anxious in his presence, so I would say it’s a matter of patience and understanding for dinner with him to stop being uncomfortable for you.”  
“Patience…” Ignis said with the hint of a small sigh. “I guess I do, after all, am staying for quite a while, am I not?” 

None of the furniture replied for a moment. They shared a few glances.  
“I’m sorry ‘bout that, Specs…” Noctis apologized, looking uncomfortable.  
“You don’t have why, Noct, I already told you before” Ignis shook softly the head. “Worry not, you lot. It doesn’t cause me major trouble.”  
“Still, it’s not correct to have you prisoner” Iris agreed, looking worried.   
“Not like any of us could do anything about that” Ignis said softly at them, making sure to give them a kind smile. “I’m sorry I made that comment. It doesn’t matter. I’m not feeling sadness. You all are polite and attentive with me, and Gladiolus has shown sympathy and kindness these previous days” Ignis’ smile turned a little sincerer. “So please do not worry. Alright?” he gave only a little pause, not expecting for any answer and uncrossing the legs. “We all should get some sleep. It’s getting late.”

The furniture agreed with him, all of them leaving the previous subject behind. When Ignis saw the squad starting to climb down the drawer they were at, he offered to take them somewhere to save them the walk, but Luna declined, saying Pryna was out there to offer a ride for them. Noctis, however, had curled up on a chair and said he would stay there ‘thank you very much’. Ignis then waved goodbye at the other three at the door, and, once left with the already sleeping clock, he reached to turn off the lights before getting in bed. He spent only about five minutes there when something opened his door again, and a clicking sound echoed louder each time. It was not Prompto, since it did not echo like metal but rather porcelain. He waited, and soon enough the tea pot had already climbed onto the bedside table, so he rolled in her direction.  
“Iris” he called. “May I help you with anything?”  
“Ignis…I…” the tea pot murmured by this point, what with the sensation of silence after the room was emptied and the lights were turned off. She took her time, looking…oddly embarrassed, rather than shy. “Uhm…I…I wanted…I mean…” 

“…yes, Iris?” Ignis offered after a small silence, encouraging her.   
“Uhm…well…” the tea pot took in a deep breath, never once looking at the man to the eyes. “I…wanted to thank you…”  
“You are very much welcome, Iris…but I would like to know what you’re thanking me for, if I may” Ignis said as softly as he managed, confused but not wanting to shy her away even more. The pot looked up at him only for a moment before her big eyes went down again, not in sadness but in that odd embarrassment. It took her some moments, and when she spoke again there was this sensation to her voice and tone that made the conversation feel intimate and confidential.  
“It’s been…very, very long since Gladio ever had some…real company” Iris murmured to him. Ignis shifted a little in his place in the bed, attentive and much more serious. “I mean, we’ve always been his friends and have always been with him, but…no matter how close we stand to him when he eats, it’s not the same than actually and really and properly having dinner with someone else…you know?” Ignis did not speak nor did he answer. He kept the head on a hand, looking with slight worry at the tea pot. “My b-….well…Gladdy has spent so, so many years among furniture…and he doesn’t say it, probably doesn’t realize himself, but…” she took in a breath again. “…he feels…has felt for all these five years…kind of lonely.” 

Lonely. Ignis had not thought about it that way; there had to be hundreds of living furniture pieces scattered all over the castle…but only one beast. With the quantity of living furniture, never did Ignis think Gladiolus could ever feel lonely. It sounded stupid. But when he considered it, to not have an equal for so long _could_ outstand. There was a lot of furniture and all were friendly, of course…but it was furniture, in the end. Perhaps the sensation was not that of not having anyone, but rather not having a mutual, someone alike, an equal. Ignis tried to imagine living among _only_ the furniture, and concluded quickly that he would end up losing his mind; it was like living among an entire different species. It could be nice and comfortable, but to be the only of his kind could get heavy…at least, after so much time. He wondered, for a moment, if Gladiolus was feeling like that. If that was what Iris meant. 

“I know you guys started rough with each other” Iris said and took him out of his thoughts. “But he’s been kind to you, and you’ve given him so in exchange, and…by having dinner with him…” the tea pot paused only for a moment. “He doesn’t say and didn’t show it, but…I could see it and feel it in him; he appreciated it far, far more than you could imagine, mister Ignis…” the man put the eyes slightly down, still half in thoughts, and not knowing what to say at all. The pot, however, continued. “I dare say, you’ve made him happy. Very, very happy. That you offered company and didn’t leave, even if you did it for formality…it made him very, very happy and made his heart warm up a bit, after so many years in the cold” once said that, she offered a little gesture that Ignis guessed was her way of bowing. “So I thank you for that. You’ll never know how much it means to me that you were so kind to him. This meant a lot to him, and that means a lot to me.”

Ignis did not speak for a while, and only stared at Iris as she kept the bow-like position before returning to a normal standing. She was looking at him, finally, even though there was still some embarrassment that could easily be tagged as some sort of sadness. He looked at her in silence and was not able to offer a smile.   
“…what is it that links him to you, little miss?” Ignis asked her lowly and softly. “You have…always shown so much care and concern for him. You’re incredibly loyal to him. Why is that, that special bond?”  
“He is…very important to me” Iris stated. “He’s…my family.”  
Ignis nodded slowly. The tea pot was not lying at all, and while she understood that Ignis was misunderstanding her words and taking them as metaphor, she did not correct his silent assumptions.   
“…mister Ignis…” Iris called after a while in silence, eyes finding him again, only to go back down once more. “…uhm…I know…I know that it’s maybe too much to ask, and I know it’s a bit of a selfish thing, but…I wanted…I also wanted to ask you…” he waited patiently, eyes giving their full attention to her. She still took some moments. “…I wanted to ask you…to really, really try to have a second dinner with him…m-maybe…m-maybe make it a usual thing” once said that, she seemed to become a little flustered and hurried her words. “I-I don’t ask you make it daily if you don’t want to, I wouldn’t want you to feel forced to anything, but…but…I also…I also want to make Gladdy happy, and I thought…”

Iris stopped when she felt a fingertip on her, nearby the eye. She looked up at the man again, only to find him looking at her, an arm stretched so he could place the back of his index finger on her as if to caress her face, very gently and a bit shyly. Iris looked at him in complete silence, watched as Ignis removed his finger. A second later, he smiled at her and nodded.  
“I’ll try” he murmured. “For you, Iris. You have a kind heart. He should be very grateful he has someone like you on his side.”  
It took Iris a few moments and a blink before processing the comment. She smiled happily at the man and a tiny laugh made it out her mouth.   
“Thank you, mister Ignis” she said cheerfully while still lowly. “I’ll ask him to behave, don’t worry!”  
“Just don’t…” Ignis stopped there after having rushed his words. The tea pot gave him curious eyes after his rush. He gave her an apologetic and rather embarrassed smile. “…just…don’t tell him that…” he sighed. “Just…don’t make it sound like I’m _asking_ for a second dinner. Uhm…suggest it to him. Like a…possibility. Don’t…state it for sure. Please.”  
“Why?” Iris asked, curious for real. She saw Ignis smile uncomfortably at her.  
“…I don’t want him to think I _wish_ for a repetition” Ignis murmured. “I don’t. I will _try_ , I don’t necessarily _want_ to. I don’t mean to offend you, Iris. I’m being sincere…”

Even though Iris had shown to easily get upset with any non-positive comment about Gladio (not even necessarily an insult, the smallest things could trigger her), this time she showed to understand much better. She looked in a very good mood when she nodded at him along a happy ‘Yep!’.   
“Thank you, Ignis” Iris murmured at him, hopping onto the bed and startling Ignis a bit, only so she could snuggle at his face. He could not help a little laugh at the contact of the porcelain against his cheek. “That’s going to mean a lot to him. Thank you” she got away again and smiled at him before returning to the bedside table. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ignis. Thanks again.”  
“That’s fine, Iris” he smiled at her and watched her hop her way down until she was out of sight. Ignis put attention to the sounds she did and heard her making her way to the door. “Good night.”  
“Night” she said back, and soon enough there was the sound of the door. Ignis wondered how the small furniture, more precisely the ones with no hands or arms like Iris or Luna handled doors. How they even reached the knob. He guessed it had to be practice, and his mind wandered to try to picture what it looked like, when furniture like them opened or closed doors.

When he noticed he was thinking about a tea pot furiously jumping to reach a knob, he realized his mind was already digressing senselessly. Which meant it was best to get some sleep.

\--

A second dinner together. It sounded stupid and a bit illogic, what with the great and obvious discomfort Ignis was through during every second of the first one.   
But there he was. Serving two dishes and carrying both towards the table instead of only one. Like the previous day, Ignis had let Gladio stay at the dining room while he cooked. He considered that if he forced himself to stand the concept of the beast watching him cook, it could eventually make it easier for him to handle having dinner together. Not like Gladiolus stared the entire time, anyway; most of the time he was busy and distracted looking at the windows or at the furniture, who he enjoyed talking with among laughter or childish arguments that ended up in jokes. Ignis quietly listened to that. He was not the great speaker already, but he went even quieter at his cooking time now that Gladiolus was nearby. 

Uncomfortable and not hiding it, Ignis went to the table and served his dish to the beast, before returning to what apparently he had chosen as his regular seat; across the table and four chairs of distance between both. Gladio snorted softly at that; Ignis cheekily admitted to not want to be close, and it was a bit rude, but also sincere, so Gladio mentally thanked that at least the man was not hypocrite. He did not enjoy being nearby the beast and did not hide it. Much ruder, but much better than anyone reaching towards him for pity, he guessed.   
“No noodles tonight?” Gladio asked while looking down at his dish, which had more vegetables than meat at all. He let out a childish groan of tantrum. “But why?”  
“You can’t rely on only one food group to have a well-balanced diet and a functional nutrition, Gladiolus” Ignis started lecturing him. The beast rolled the eyes but stayed quiet. “Pasta is delicious and healthy but you cannot have it as daily alimentation and expect for it to do any good to your system.”  
“It’s never done anything bad to mine” Gladio replied, sniffling at his food like a dog. Ignis watched that and felt his face transform slightly in disgust, so he looked away. “Why don’t you cook more tomorrow? That’d be awesome” Gladio looked up from his dish. “Please?”

“Not tomorrow” Ignis stayed unmovable in his decision, picking at his food with a fork. “One day, perhaps.”  
“One day” Gladio said with a snort that sounded a bit more like disappointment rather than anger. The man gave a subtle glance at him for a moment. The beast was not watching him. He kept sniffling and looking at his food like a hungry predator. Ignis’ face again started transforming almost without the man himself noticing. He was frozen while watching Gladiolus. And, soon enough, the beast started taking the food in his hands to bring that up to his mouth. Ignis watched him take handfuls of the vegetables and toss them in his mouth in a barbaric way. The man was quiet and his face deformed more and more, until he had to look away in disgust.  
From a counter nearby, the furniture tried to gesture Gladio to keep it cool, but the beast was focused in his food alone. Like every night at the exception of the noodles of the previous dinner.   
Perhaps this had been a mistake.

Ignis did not manage to bring a single piece of lettuce up to his mouth. Every time he tried, he heard the beast munching on his food with loud and unnecessary noises of saliva and teeth. The man closed the eyes and tried to focus on his food, bringing the fork up. But it was impossible to shut the noises. As perfectionist as he was, Ignis could not just ignore such brutality. He tried again to focus on his own dish, but he heard Gladiolus still munching. Ignis was hungry and forced his hand to come up to his lips, but it resisted. He glared down at it almost as if to make it obey, but his hand seemed to offer greater resistance, almost as if screaming _No way are we putting anything in your mouth so long that idiot keeps making such a noise and scene in front of you!_ Ignis frowned in frustration. He wanted to eat and could not, and he blamed the beast for that. When he turned in Gladiolus’ direction to nag him, he found the beast holding the dish with both hands and basically pressing it to his face so he could munch and eat with the mouth pressed to the food.

_That’s it, I’m done._

Ignis snapped the head another side, prepared to stand up and leave. But his eyes suddenly landed on Iris, standing among the rest of their friends. She was the only one that was looking at him when he turned and caught her staring. She did not look away. Ignis felt his body untense for a moment when his eyes caught that scene; everyone was looking at Gladiolus and trying to get his attention with gestures, but only the tea pot was frozen and standing still looking in the man’s direction. Everyone worried for how Gladiolus behaved, but only Iris felt a major concern on Ignis’ reactions.  
 _She doesn’t want me to leave…_  
Ignis returned the glance, less tense now, with a hundred things in the head. First time Iris snapped at him for having called Gladiolus an ‘It’, all the times the tea pot showed unbreakable loyalty and love for the beast, and her petition of the previous night. He remembered the tower, Iris serving him the first glass of water he had had in three days. Her sweet way of offering it to him, telling him it was okay.   
_I am in debt with her._  
Only then, Iris looked another way as if only now realizing Ignis was staring back. The man still looked at her some more moments before looking away and sighing, eyes closed.  
 _…the things I do to repay my debts._

Ignis took only a few moments, before his fist came down onto the table. It was not particularly strong, but it was not a caress to the wood, either. It had strength enough only to call the attention.  
“That’s enough!” he called a second after his fist came down onto the table. The furniture turned to look at him, and Gladiolus put the dish down to turn in his direction as well. Ignis looked at him; the beast had the mouth and half the face covered in half-chewed food. The man frowned even more and felt an eyebrow twitch. The beast gave him a questioning glance, and Ignis had to mentally count and breathe not to snap out at him. “I am fully aware you are not planning on letting me go any time soon, sir, so I _am_ trying to make my stay here comfortable” Ignis suddenly stood from the chair. “I can clean this place on my own and work on my small harvest to soon enough have material to have my proper three meals a day” as he spoke, he started heading towards the kitchen. Gladio only looked at him entirely puzzled, not understanding the sudden preach.

That was, of course, until Ignis re-entered the living room carrying with two handkerchiefs, still speaking and frowning deeply.  
“But those are things I work for myself; I can’t, however, do anything about your manners, sir” Ignis was approaching him from Gladio’s side of the table, making the beast a bit nervous and even more puzzled. Soon enough, the man was standing at his side. “If I am to stay for a very long time in here, and if I am to have dinner with my host, the least I can ask from him is that he _behaves_ and does not interrupt my personal comfort.”  
Once said that, Ignis made a handkerchief flap in his grip, unwrapping it fully. Gladio still looked at him with questions in the eyes. Ignis, on his part, suddenly offered the kerchief to him.  
“Clean yourself this instant and your section of the table” once ordered that, Ignis flapped the other handkerchief. “And this one goes either down onto your lap or up to your chest; I am assuming you know how that works.”

The furniture, only after all these orders and after staying frozen out of shock, started gesturing towards Ignis. Once again, like back in their beginning, the man was trying to boss the other around and seemed to behave rude. But Ignis did not turn to look at them, did not seem to notice. Gladio gave the man wide, angered eyes as if expecting him to take back what he had said. But Ignis kept the hands stretched towards him.  
“I will _not_ clean you if that is what you’re waiting for, Gladio” Ignis stated, chin up and eyes never moving off a single inch off those of the beast’s. Gladio started growling at him. They glared at each other for a moment. “I do not ask you become a gentleman at the table, but I do warn I will _not_ tolerate an animal behavior in my presence.”  
And right as Gladio had started to show his upper fangs from under his twitching lip and right as the furniture all looked away expecting for the beast to snap something out in response, Ignis spoke again.  
“You are not an animal, Gladio. So don’t behave like one.”

It was impressive, Gladio would realize later, how only one comment could be enough to make him immediately rein the beast back and chain it back in its place at the back of his mind, as simple as it was having it escape. It was almost like a trigger, except the other way around; instead of making the beast snap out, the trigger made it snap back inside. Letting the beast escape his grip was very simple; the chains containing it turned into smoke and it simply broke out from its cage. Reining it in was always much more difficult, no matter the circumstances; to break something is always much easier than repairing it. To have controlled it as simply as he had had it breaking free…it was rather new. Only Iris had gotten it before in the past. A few times, Noctis as well. But that was it.   
Gladio’s expression immediately softened. As if it had not been there before, he realized that while Ignis was frowning in complete anger towards him, there was a soft look in his eyes that was completely incongruous with his actions, words and expression. The eyebrows were furrowed, but the eyes, something about the irises, about the _look_ in them…it showed something alike sympathy, but not pity. It was his eyes what spoke.  
 _Those eyes, the eyes of a strategist. Green. A green unknown by painters. Impossible to recreate._

Gladio kept looking at him for a moment. Every second that passed made Ignis look a little more embarrassed in a way that the beast could not name or quite grasp at all. The man still had both hands stretched, holding the handkerchiefs to him. It was after a little more staring rather than glaring that Ignis’ frown hesitated. And as soon as he felt it transform in an embarrassed look, the human looked another way as if to pretend he was still majorly angered.   
“Well, have them” Ignis insisted without looking at him. “I am not going to stand here all night. I have yet not tried my food and I won’t be able to do that until you’ve cleaned yourself and behaved at the table.”  
His words and actions suddenly opened a whole repertoire of jokes that Gladio could pull on him, and he considered it for a moment.  
But, instead of that, he moved both hands up and accepted the handkerchiefs.

His movement was slow, maybe a bit awkward, but he soon had the tip of the handkerchiefs between his fingers, the palms up. Ignis still kept them in his own hands for a moment, with the palms down. The hands were, that way, somehow connected through the pieces of cloth. In the awkward realization, Ignis let go of them and put the hands down, not giving a last glance before he rounded the large table to return to his own seat at the other side. While he did, Gladio looked at him and did nothing else for a while. Without taking his eyes off the walking man, the beast slowly and a bit dumbly started cleaning his face. When Ignis had reached his seat and hence was across the table, even when four seats away, the beast looked away so the man would not catch him staring, and focused only in cleaning his mess.

Both stayed quiet until Gladio was finished and put the kerchief away. He looked up at Ignis with a look that was a mixture of both anger and shyness.   
“…I won’t apologize, you know” Gladio muttered at him, putting the other kerchief to his chest, trapping an edge in the collar of his shirt. “It’s hard to contain the beast, and it sure loves meal time, you know?”  
“It’s hard, but not impossible, sir” Ignis told him. The beast only exhaled through the nose and shook the head slightly in tiny movements, as if trying to be exasperated by thinking this man had no idea what he talked about, but not ending up to fully believe himself. “Gladiolus is my host, not that beast. Hence, I will have dinner only with Gladiolus. It would be fantastic if you could contain those animal instincts in my presence” once again after what had been an apparently rude comment and before Gladio could complain back, Ignis did it again; “you’re not doing it alone anymore, you know. Controlling those instincts can be hard for you alone but now I’m here to help with that. So there is no excuse.”

Gladio, again, froze and only looked at him without knowing how to react or what face to show. The man, again, looked as if trying hard to look angry despite his real feelings to be that of embarrassment. The Shield had already noticed, but things like this only reminded it of the fact; _Ignis has no social skills._  
The man had no idea how to deal with Gladiolus. It felt…it almost felt like Ignis was trying to do or say something very kind, to offer something very important, but like he had never done anything like this before and had no idea how to say or show it, so it came out as a mess of behaving angry to hide the real intentions, or to lessen their impact. Well, it _was_ Ignis’ first time dealing with a speaking beast that had him prisoner, so of course he had no idea how to deal with things. But it still confused Gladio. The man had no reasons to be kind towards him, let alone behave like this; despite his rude comments and his frown, it felt…polite. And almost sweet. 

… _or maybe it’s just me, too desperate for some human contact, misunderstanding the little things he does and trying to convince myself that his anger hides care, when really it’s just anger._

Some moments into the awkward silence in which Ignis stayed tense at his seat looking embarrassed and staring away, Gladio came out of his head and looked away as well, muttering a small ‘Yeah’. Trying to get out of the awkward zone, Gladio eventually returned his attention to the little food still left in his dish. He reached for it with a hand, but it stopped in its place when he found Ignis staring at it.   
“What?” Gladio called. “Do you want me to use a fork? I can’t use utensils. I have paws, if you haven’t noticed. Last night doesn’t count.”  
At first Ignis looked as if though he had been about to say something but kept it in in the last moment. He kept quiet, staring at Gladio.   
“…that’s fine” he muttered and looked away.   
The soft response was a bit startling, a bit unexpected. It had been long since they last properly argued, but Ignis had gotten so worked up…or at least had acted like that, that Gladio had somehow waited for the man to snap out at him. But Ignis, apparently, was working on taming himself and his uptightness. Gladio, suddenly, felt a little guilty.  
“…sorry” he apologized in a murmur. Ignis did not reply, but gave him a confused gaze for a moment. 

Soon enough, both started to try to retake dinner. Gladio did not reach for any utensil nor asked for one, but this time he was not taking handfuls of his food. He picked small parts with his fingertips. Even though Ignis himself had asked for Gladio to behave, it looked odd now that he had it at sight; Gladio was picking tiny amounts if compared to the size of his hand and mouth. Ignis looked at him and the way he now was taking his food, and soon tried again to start eating his own. He picked some food with the fork and brought it up. Finally, he could eat. The beast was not keeping the mouth fully closed, but at least he now seemed to be a bit more conscious about not loudly chewing and spitting everywhere. Much more. Far much more. Ignis continued with his own dinner, not helping to notice the incredibly big change. Gladio was much more conscious, and that made him behave a hundred times better at the table, even if it still looked rather disgusting. 

Some minutes into the silence, Ignis stopped picking his food and looked at Gladio, subtly. The beast looked like he was struggling a bit. The tiny amounts of food he picked not to be dirty caused him troubles, with the size of his claws being a clear obstacle. For a moment, the man wondered if the beast could cut them or if they were like those of any other animal, where half the claws were like second fingers, and cutting them was as harmful as it would be for a person to take half a finger off. Watching his struggles and the way he slowly grew exasperated made Ignis feel a bit guilty. He really wanted to make Gladiolus behave, but he had to admit he could not make a beast behave like a man, either. Maybe he had asked too much.  
…and yet, Gladiolus tried what he was asked for. With no complaints.

Some moments only staring at nowhere, feeling a pinch of sympathy and a much more noticeable pinch of guilt inside, Ignis was a bit too into his thoughts and was brought out of them when Gladio sighed with exasperation. The man looked up at him.   
“Listen, Ignis” Gladio called and dropped the food he was holding back to the dish. “I know you’re trying to be kind, but you don’t have to take dinner with me if you don’t want to” the beast looked up at him with a firm expression. “Listen, it’s hard for me to rein in the beast. The instincts or whatever you call them. If you’re having dinner with me, you can’t expect me to be a gentleman. I can try but I’ll surely end up losing myself in the pleasure of food and the beast will come back out before I notice to continue chomping on the dish, and even if it doesn’t, I can’t use utensils” he paused for only a moment. “I can try. I think that if I tried I’d eventually get it, but it’d take me weeks, maybe months to get used. On the meanwhile, I’ll just…I get frustrated easily, okay? And I’ll drop them and go back to eat with my hands. I know it makes you uncomfortable, and I know it’s disgusting. So you don’t have to stay if you don’t want. I’m dirty and disgusting and can’t change that from a minute to the next one.”

Nobody spoke or moved for a moment.   
“It makes me anxious to eat in front of you, knowing I’m making you uncomfortable” Gladio admitted to him. “I try, but I cannot _not_ use my hands, but using them in front of you, so well-behaved and so formal…it makes me nervous” he paused yet again, but the voice stayed firm. “Thanks a lot for trying, really. It’s kind and all. But you don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable.”

There was silence again. The furniture were as quiet as if trying to pretend they did not exist, and looked at both sides of the conversation, waiting to see who reacted first. Ignis looked as calm as always, as if though this did not cause anything in him. He picked at his food over and over, softly and without bringing anything up.   
Suddenly, he let go of the fork and put it at a side.   
“I thank your sincerity, Gladio” Ignis told him kindly with half a nod. The beast forced a smile at him for a moment and nodded back, biding goodbye that way with that gesture. “I am, however, insisting to stay.”  
Unexpected.  
Gladio, once more, felt a bit startled and he had no prepared answer for that. It had looked like the man would gladly, maybe if only slightly guilty, stand up and take his leave. The beast had no proper answer to this, so he stayed quiet. 

“I am aware of all that. Your reminder was unnecessary” Ignis said. “I do not expect you to behave like a human. I just want you to not be a brute” before Gladio could complain, Ignis interrupted and took the word. “I have no troubles on reminding you the beast’s taking over when I see it does, and I will smack you if necessary so it doesn’t succeed” Ignis stated, and even though it felt like an offer, it still had this aggressive sound to it that confused Gladio on what this man’s intentions were. “I do thank you for caring about my comfort, nonetheless. An apology, but my food’s going to get cool, I would like to continue with my dinner.”  
“…but…about eating with my hands…” Gladio murmured so lowly he hesitated for a moment whether Ignis heard him or not. The logic thing was that the man had listened, since everything was very quiet at their exception, but Ignis was not looking at him and showed no reaction, and he did not reply either. Maybe he was ignoring Gladio on purpose.

Right as the beast started to realize he had been ignored, and before he could open the mouth again, he saw the man move one of his hands to the other. Soon enough, Ignis took the glove of his right hand off, and he calmly and taking his time put it in a pocket of his clothes. Once done that, and without looking back at Gladio for a single moment, the human focused on his dish again.   
Ignis started taking his food with his hand.   
Gladio’s eyebrows furrowed and he stared at Ignis with some intensity, not understanding. Ignis, clean, perfectionist, formal, easily-disgusted Ignis, taking his food with his fingertips and bringing it up to his mouth like nothing. The beast looked at him entirely puzzled. At first, he thought that maybe the man was making fun of him. But it did not look nor did it feel like that. The man continued to eat that way. He looked inexpert and a bit awkward. Very awkward. But not uncomfortable at all. He picked his food and carefully brought it up, but never once did he look again at his fork. 

_…is he thinking that if he eats with his hands…I’ll feel less nervous to do so myself?_

It was stupid and it would not work, Gladio thought. Ignis had strange thoughts and ways of working. If he really thought that the beast would feel more comfortable if both did it instead of only himself, that was ridiculous.   
But the intention was clear. And that was not ridiculous.  
Gladio looked at the man for a little while. For a moment, he hated Ignis with the guts; the man was confusing. He acted kind but behaved rude. He was a strange mess of entwined threads that Gladio was forced to untangle if he wanted to really understand Ignis’ actions; he did something acting some other way saying something else. That Ignis was such a complex and complicated human being was tiring and frustrating. Gladio, for a second, wished that Ignis would have been much simpler and much more submissive; that way, he could have carefully cleaned Gladio himself, speaking kindly, being sweet and teaching him to eat. But no; this man preferred to yelp out, start preaching out of nowhere, talk serious and flat stuff in an aggressive and angered tone with a soft and kind meaning under hidden shyness and badly handled embarrassment while bossing around. Frustrating.  
But much more…honest. Much more _human._

Gladio had not realized since when, but he found himself smiling. Eventually, his eyes returned to his own food, and he decided to not overthink things through, and picked it up with the hand, again trying to be as careful as he could manage. In silence, both started eating. There were no sounds of loud chewing, even though it was not absolute silence either. Any time the beast looked up at Ignis, the man was still using his hand. The fork was long forgotten at a side. Ignis still looked rather awkward; it was more than obvious that this was the first time he ever ate like that. Maybe ever. Gladio could not help to widen the smile at the realization. It was very stupid and oddly adorable, like a child not understanding something but giving his best into it. 

That second dinner was mostly quiet from that moment and until the end, but it did not lack of interactions. Every now and then, one looked at the other, who looked back in response. Every time they did, any of them smiled without even thinking, and the gesture was returned. Gladio smiled at Ignis with his own reasons and gratitude, and Ignis smiled at him under the same circumstances. It was almost ridiculous how this was working, one being kind to the other to thank the kindness given in return for the previously given kindness. Ignis almost laughed at the thought, and wondered which could have been the first demonstration of politeness that started this vicious cycle. Gladio, on his part, found another vicious cycle of his own; when Ignis smiled, whether it was to himself or to the beast, Gladio could not help but also smile, and remembering the man’s previous smile, Gladio smiled to himself; Ignis caught him staring and smiled in return, and things started over. 

Gladio considered his vicious cycle to maybe be a bit selfish, but he could not help it. Ignis was _stunning_. His looks had never compensated his rudeness of their beginning, but it had been days, maybe even weeks in which Ignis had been utterly and openly kind to him. It almost gave him an entirely different and new air. It was like his kindness, that did but grow more and more explicit each day, put emphasis to his physical looks and features. Maybe it was because he had not seen a human face in years, but Gladio had admitted before and would never stop re-realizing, Ignis was _beautiful._ A man and uptight and whatever, but beautiful. That was basically the only word that could describe him. Handsome sounded so average, and Ignis was anything but that. Gorgeous sounded inappropriate. Pretty was not accurate; Ignis’ features were manly, not that of a child or a cute boy. He was beautiful simply because there was not a word that fitted him other than that. 

While eating and sharing casual and eventual glances and smiles at each other, both started growing oddly comfortable across dinner, no words required at all.   
Maybe Ignis was right, Gladio thought once in his room later that night, about eating with a hand so both would be standing in the same spot. Whether it had been that or not, after Ignis had taken his glove off and started eating, dinner had grown quickly and noticeably comfortable, and by the end of it none of them seemed to have minded having eaten using the hands. 

Ignis really knew what he was doing, after all, Gladio guessed.

\--

A few days later, Gladio had decided to go say something to Ignis. At first he had wanted to thank him for the previous four nights in a row in which the man had taken dinner with him and had not stood from his chair until the very end. He still looked uncomfortable at each dinner and sat with that distance in between, but he had stayed nonetheless. And like he promised, he had been helping Gladio to tame the beast when it was about dinner. Most of their interaction were those moments; Gladio starting to lose control and start to frantically eat, Ignis chiding and nagging and preaching, sometimes so fired up it almost rubbed comedy at the way he yelped out things at Gladiolus that, in context, were supposed to sound rude or firm, but if one was not looking at the scene or forgot Gladiolus was a beast, it could easily turn into something hilarious (like the time Ignis yelped out at him ‘holy gods, Gladiolus, you look like you’re trying to sing a grotesque opera choking on a chickatrice bone while vomiting, stop it this instant’. He was deadly serious, but Prompto and Noctis insisted on laughing on the background.)

Gladio had been annoyed countless times by the man out of all his interventions, because heck if they were very often across all dinner. Ignis was taking his role too seriously and never hesitated on reminding Gladiolus to behave, behave, behave. The beast was very annoyed in the moment that he was nagged, but every time, after dinner, he realized he had stayed fully conscious in all moments. And not that he was not when the beast took over when eating; he was mentally aware of what he was doing, but did not care on looking or behaving like an animal simply because it felt so natural to him. That day, he had come to realize it with those words, in that way: that Ignis constantly chided him had brought him to stay fully, fully human on his actions when eating, and while it had been annoying, Ignis had kept him _there_ all the time. He had not let the animal behavior to continue because it was not supposed to be _natural_ , in which it had started to turn for Gladiolus in the previous or so year.

Ignis possibly had no idea of how much that meant to Gladio, that he was willing to and working on having him rein the beast in all the time. Gladio always tried with all his might, but this was different.  
For once, and like Ignis had said, he was not alone in this.  
So, the Shield had intended to thank him. Had it been anything else, he would have let it go without saying anything, because it was true that Ignis’ role on taming the beast at dinner was extra annoying…but it meant a lot to Gladio. To be able to stay conscious. To be able to recover some humanity. Mostly because the flower had only a few, poor six petals left. If Gladio’s consciousness was going to fade and let the beast fully take over any time soon, he would be grateful to have spent some of his last moments as humanly as possible. For the good, old times. And while he would not express all that to Ignis, he at least wanted to tell him a simple ‘thanks’.  
For that…and, if Gladio admitted, he had not realized how much he enjoyed of company. Even when the company was either intensely quiet or furiously chiding him, no in between…it had felt good.

Gladio really, really had the intention and had let the pride fade when he got dressed that morning and headed over to the human’s room before breakfast. He really had the intention of being friendly and give a ‘Good morning’ before casually thank him for the previous nights of dinner when he found the door to his room open.  
But he stopped at a side of the door like he had suddenly walked into a wall or as if though time had frozen for him, and all his thoughts and prepared speeches collapsed inside him when he was struck by the sounds.  
Ignis, oblivious of the beast’s presence outside his room, was humming to himself in the bathroom.

The Shield stayed frozen, eyes looking at nowhere and ears flapping up like that of an attentive deer. Whatever Ignis was doing, the door of the bathroom was also open. It did not sound muffled, and it barely had any echo, so he was not so deep into the room. Perhaps he was nearby the sink, doing whatever. He was not brushing his teeth, and there was not the sound of water, so had Gladio been any conscious to give a thought to it, he could have guessed that the only option left was that the man was shaving his face. Whatever he was doing, that did not matter. What mattered was that he was humming. And not quietly. Not in a whisper. Gladio, still frozen outside the room, put attention to it like he was trying to decipher a secret code that held information to break the curse. And he listened. Listened the way the voice came out as naturally and softly as if it had been created to do only that, singing. It was not opera like, sure, but it was a good voice, too tuned for it to not have been professionally trained before.

The voice almost felt like a dark red line floating on the air, moving. Sometimes it went up, and sometimes down. Like it was coloring the dots of the music sheet as it developed. Sometimes, the humming was a ‘Hm’ sound of closed mouth. Sometimes, the sounds were louder and it was a clear opening of mouth with sounds of ‘Da’ and all its equivalents. Sometimes the voice returned to the quieter sounds of pressed lips only. But no matter how Ignis did it, all ways sounded tuned and…good. The voice was clean. And the color of it was pretty. Green…red…it was impossible to tag. Maybe none, but dark brown. Like his daily coffees, and the color of his hair in the shadows. Like those daily coffees…dark, reserved…but always warm and liquid, but a liquid that fell slowly in little sips rather than coldly and harshly like a cascade. No. This was hot, careful water. 

Gladio listened to him for much more moments, not reacting. It was the first time he ever heard Ignis’ voice do something other than nag or speak. Even the time he laughed in front of Gladio, it had been an awkward snort, no actual sound. Or at least not one long enough to enjoy like this. This humming…if the beast focused and forgot this man’s situation and current position as a prisoner, his humming sounded like that of a young man in a daily morning routine. Like a mother singing to her newborn to sleep. Like a father running his fingers through the hair of his son to calm him. It felt…oddly domestic. And so terribly warm. And so terrifically, so agonizingly calming.

It was only because the water of the sink joined Ignis’ humming that Gladio could react again. He blinked as if to break the new curse set on him that had nothing to do with the one that had turned him into a beast, getting rid of it.

He did not forget why he had gone there in the first place…but he turned over his heels and left.  
Suddenly, his mind was entirely empty and he was sure nothing would make it out of his mouth if he tried to speak, so his ‘Thanks’ would have to wait for another day.

\--

Gladio let go another couple of days without thanking him. Ignis had not noticed in any way that the beast had heard him humming that one morning, but Gladio still felt shy when facing the man after that tiny event. It almost felt like if he watched Ignis to the eyes, the man would figure it out and he would think of Gladio as a stalker or something, when truth was that it had been an accident. He had been oddly quiet those previous two nights and it had not gone unnoticed by the human, but he also did not question anything. Perhaps, Gladio guessed, Ignis was taking that silence as some sort of consequence of his constant nagging of the beast at the table, the results of ‘educating’ him. The truth was that Gladio was not doing much better with that, but he had been too embarrassed of that sensation of looking at Ignis after accidentally hearing him hum and had been avoiding him more than usual. 

“I still don’t get why it’s such a big deal, Gladdy” Iris had told him that day, when the beast had been trying to not think of the matter but ended up telling his sister what had happened earlier that morning.   
“I don’t know, it feels like…I spied on something personal” Gladio tried to explain with a little shrug. “You know, it’s…strange. Hadn’t heard him…didn’t think I’d…it felt…strange…”  
“But why?” Iris was confused. “It’s just Ignis humming. It’s not like you saw him naked or heard him speak something personal or anything.”  
“I don’t know…I just…guess…” Gladio tried to explain. He was sat nearby a window, looking through it. His ears moved slightly down as if his body was untensing.

There was a long pause between the siblings.  
“…he has a nice voice, I guess.”

 

That evening a couple days later, Gladio had decided to try again. He had been hesitating on whether to thank him or not; if he did, it could make Ignis think that the beast was taking it personally. Which was not a lie, but maybe the man would misunderstand it thinking that Gladio was misunderstanding the point of dinner, and was starting to consider him a friend when really it was just formality. Gladio understood that it was nothing intimate even if it _was_ personal, but he did not want Ignis to think he did not know the difference. Maybe, he guessed, thanking him verbally was not the best idea. But Gladio wanted to at least interact with him a bit more; maybe ask him about the books he had been picking from the library, or talk about the furniture friends, or maybe just ask him how he was doing, a kind and small gesture. Whatever, anything…Gladio only wanted to interact a little more with the man. He was not so bad if treated with correctly…

Even though most of the day was usually spent both on their own doing their separate activities, that one day was the first that Gladio looked for the man. Well, the first day that he looked for the man without thinking of killing him or going to complain about something. The first going to look for him just to…talk. Or only to be in the same room. Gladio was not sure of what he really wanted to say, or if he wanted to say anything at all. He was not sure what he wanted, he only had this desire of going to see what the man was doing and simply…be there. He would figure it out once with him, Gladio guessed. 

He found Ignis in a wide living room of the low floor. And, like Ignis had taken as a habit, he found the man standing at the window. Again.   
The first thing that crossed his head was that it was stupid and hilarious. _You look like a fairy tale princess about to call for her bird companions_ , he had once told the man, and he still thought it was a pretty accurate description. The way Ignis stood made him look almost like a military general staring out at the cadets, but the fact that he was standing at a windowsill made it impossible for Gladio to take him seriously. The beast stood at the door a few moments, smiling and amused, and went through all the quantity of jokes he could come up with in that moment. But also unable to ignore the mental reminder that hit him out of nowhere, that told him Ignis had been especially kind with him. Sure, he let him in the library, but Ignis had also gifted him something intimate of his own in return; his comfort in exchange of company for the beast. Something that felt small yet he knew must have taken Ignis a lot of effort. Just like it had taken him with letting him in the library.

Gladio was not sure if he liked all this issue of “I give you if you give me”, but it did not feel wrong. The man was content, he was content, nobody lost anything. Still, he considered that if one was giving something to someone, whoever it was, it had to be born from the heart rather than from the necessity of thanking them. Which was not bad, but it felt a little more like an obligation.   
He was not sure if he was in that ‘gifting something for gratitude’ frequency, or if he was tired of seeing Ignis do the window thing, or if it really was born from the desire of only giving him something, but he found no hesitation on it when he entered the room in total silence, trying to keep his steps as quiet as possible without going unnecessarily slow.   
Ignis did not seem to have heard him yet. He looked pretty focused on whatever he was looking at. Soon, the beast had reached the window the man was standing at. Gladio still looked at him with a silly grin of amusement, and fought hard not to chuckle at the ridiculous sight.

It was then when Gladio put the back of his hand on Ignis’ back and pushed him to the outside.

It was not much of an Ignis thing to not notice the predator behind him, what with how perceptive he was, so Gladio guessed the man must have had been very distracted in his thoughts. Whatever it was, Ignis was for once taken completely off guard and he was pushed off the windowsill as easily as if he was a child. The man let out a tiny and low yelp of surprise, and the only thing he could do was roll on the ground to avoid falling face-plant on it when he hit it. The roll was dumb but at least he did not hit his face. Still down on a knee and with the clothes dirty from the direct contact with the ground, Ignis turned over his shoulder to look at the window. There, Gladio was too busy laughing to look at him. 

Ignis looked at him completely startled and confused. He felt his face burn at the embarrassment, and he stayed down on his position while Gladiolus continued laughing, a hand slapping his own face as he did, like he had just heard the best joke in the world. Ignis felt a bit humiliated and he despised the feeling, so he stood up and turned to face the window. He was frowning as he cleaned his clothes with his gloves hands, waiting for the beast to be done with the laughter. It still took some moments before Gladiolus reached for the window and rested a hand there, poking the head outside.  
“That was a nice roll, Ignis” Gladio called from the inside with a cocky grin. The man frowned at him, but his face still exposed some of the embarrassment he was feeling.  
“What was that for!?” Ignis complained, clearly upset.   
“You looked stupid” Gladio explained to him, half-sitting on the windowsill Ignis had previously been standing on, and crossing the arms. “Standing at windows like that on your legal hole of ‘I’m not outside’ and stuff.”

Ignis had opened the mouth to complain, but it was this time the beast who took the word before he could say anything.  
“Stop standing at windowsills and looking like a princess and just go properly outside” Gladio said, and his voice suddenly softened. “You’re basically out already, anyway.”

It took Ignis some moments. At first he had opened the mouth for an immediate reply of reaction, angered and flustered. But his brain processed the last words and made him freeze in understanding, then stay frozen at confusion because it did not end up making sense. If he understood what Gladiolus was saying…then again, it could not possibly…but it _was_. Ignis could only stare at Gladio with a frown of confusion, not moving from his place. The beast had sounded arrogant and rude, but apparently that had only been his way of disguising…of saying that…that Ignis could…  
That he had permission to be outside.  
But that could not possibly be, Ignis insisted to himself. Gladio had no reasons to allow him such a thing. He had not spent time enough to demonstrate he was worthy of trust enough to be allowed outside the building on his own. Of course, three months had been agonizingly long for Ignis so far, but he was also fully aware that it was not time enough for the beast to grow trust in him, let alone with such a rough beginning for their relationship. So that just like that, out of nowhere…

This made no sense. Not as a concept and not visually. Ignis, thinking and overthinking all this situation through, could not help but notice the picture he was making with the beast; Gladio was inside, casually and carelessly half sat on the windowsill, on the inside, while Ignis looked up at him from the outside. It was almost as if the roles had been inverted, in the last way he had expected it to happen; Gladiolus allowing it, both of them careless, unarmed and off guard. None said a word and only glanced at each other, Gladiolus acting and looking bored and casual, the foot that rested on the windowsill lazily swinging from side to side. Ignis, on his part, kept the frown of confusion and the slightly widened eyes on the beast, unsure and a bit shocked.   
Outside. 

“…pardon me, Gladio, but I don’t think I understand” Ignis admitted after more moments of total silence, shaking the head slightly. “Are you…allowing me to…”  
“Be outside?” Gladio asked him with the raise of an unimpressed eyebrow. “Nah. Not ‘allowing you’. With the windows thing you do, you were already outside, anyway” the beast gave another of his cocky-like smiles, even though this one felt rather…friendly. “Just wanted you to stop that.”

Ignis was not sure what his face must have looked like, but it seemed to make Gladiolus understand very quickly that the man was completely confused and not understanding, because the beast immediately gave a low chuckle and spoke again.  
“You wanna be outside, then go outside” Gladio said and uncrossed the arms, still looking as if this whole thing both amused and tired him. “Standing at windows. What are you, a princess?”  
“…no” Ignis murmured in an unnecessary reply, not looking in the beast’s direction and still a bit shocked. 

Both fell in silence once again. Gladio looked at him from his position at the window, standing up again and resting the hands on the frame this time rather than half-sitting, and stayed as quiet and still as the man was, except he was fully conscious and not shocked, like Ignis, who could apparently do but stare at nowhere on the ground and the wall with that surprised look.   
Three months and half. _Three months and half_ on the inside of a building. Going out counted times, so very few times he could count them with fingers of one hand. Three long months and half, fourteen weeks, around a hundred days without going out of the inside of a building. A huge castle, it could be, opened windows everywhere, of course, but still the inside nonetheless. Always in among four walls. Always trapped, caged, like an animal.   
And now he had full permission to be _properly outside_. Not just poke the head through windows, not the hunting on the open field with the beast stepping right behind him. Outside, on his own. In the gardens, but they were the gardens of a _castle_. It was huge enough for him. And it was _outside_.

When Ignis came back to full consciousness and once out of his thoughts, he noticed he had been smiling for a while already. A small but heavy exhale escaped him and made his chest shrink for a moment, like one who wants to laugh but only that breath comes out. He moved a hand up and passed it softly through his hair on the side of his head. Eventually, his smile did but widen until it turned into a grin. A few moments and a failed laugh that died as a breath later, Ignis looked up at his host. Gladio was staring at him and he did not look away when their eyes met. The beast was smiling at him, not particularly wide but not a small curve either. The expression on his face was similar to that of a friend who just fixed all of his friend’s problems and was enjoying of the reaction. Ignis’s smile widened when he found the beast giving him such a friendly look, and he looked away with another breath of surprise and joy. He looked back at the beast as if about to scream something out of excitement, but remembering to contain himself and stopping, only to let out something else instead.  
“…conditions?” Ignis requested but his smile stayed on its place. 

Gladio shrugged at him, careless, still smiling.  
“Just don’t wander too far away” and that was it. As simple. As little. As insignificant. Ignis stayed quiet awaiting for more, but the beast just kept smiling and looking at him with that carefree and happy look. Ignis shook the head in tiny motions, as if silently asking ‘And…?’, but the beast just shrugged again at him without a word.  
“And that’s it?” Ignis asked. “I can go anywhere?” Gladio nodded at him. “Anywhere? What if I go near the walls?”  
“Then just don’t cross them” Gladio said in half-a-joke, grinning at him. Ignis did but chuckle again and look away for a moment, as if he had just heard he was going to be set free or that he won a million gil.   
“Any time that I want?” Ignis asked him, unable to get rid of his smile and starting to not care about it.   
“Hm…” Gladio looked away for a moment and frowned lightly, as if he had not even though about it before. _As if he had not thought about it before_ , Ignis realized, because the beast hadn’t. Like it did not matter. “Let’s say, not after ten at night and until…I don’t know, seven in the morning.”

It was not an order. For once, it was not a threat or a command. It was simply…a statement. Ignis still stared at the beast for longer, _still_ waiting for more conditions to be made, but all that Gladiolus did was the same than before; look at him with a half-amused half-soft smile.  
“Can I…” Ignis started formulating the question, and by this point he looked almost as happy as he had been back when he was presented to the library. “Can I be with Nox, my mare?”  
Gladio did not reply at first. He took a few seconds to look at the man, blinked and widened his smile. He could not help but compare the look on Ignis’ face to that of a small kid that’s asking if he can pet a stranger’s chocobo; a mixture of shyness with a bit of an excessive eagerness that was being poorly contained. And definitely joy. Hope, as well. A bit silly and unimportant, but hope, nonetheless. The beast’s smile softened and widened. There was no more fun in it, but mere warmth.   
“Of course” he replied to the man, the voice as soft as the smile. 

The reaction was immediate; Ignis’ face lit up with a growing joy that Gladio had only seen back in the library. Perhaps not as bright, but it was the same sensation to it; that of sincerity and pure happiness. Once more, Ignis turned as if about to do something, stopped before he could do anything and looked again at the beast at the window.  
“From this very same moment?” Ignis asked and Gladio could not help to laugh. The man did not even seem to mind and even widened his smile a bit as the beast laughed. It did not seem nor feel like mockery. Gladio was a bit amused at the man’s excess of questioning, but also found it to be very, particularly kind on a formal way; by asking all those things, Ignis was trying to make completely sure he would not do anything to upset his host. The care about it was senselessly kind and Gladio adored it.   
“Yeah, whatever” Gladio nodded at him, still grinning from the previous laughter. 

It was immediate again when Ignis reacted. After only a few seconds of staring and smiling at the beast, the man turned to a side and whistled loud and high-pitched without the need of putting any finger to his mouth.   
“Nox! Baby girl!” the man called while using his hands as amplifier for his voice. It all was quiet for a moment, but soon there was the audible sound of trotting that quickly grew louder. Gladio watched Ignis, saw him as the man took some steps ahead, still as if way too insecure of doing that like it was his very first time outside a building _ever._ Ignis took a few steps ahead as his black mare quickly approached him but slowed down once close to him, until both met and the man could hug her by the neck. The beast watched with curiosity and a smile. The mare looked utterly happy, or so Gladio assumed by the joyful way she moved her front hooves almost as if dancing, and how she snorted and swung the tail at times. 

Ignis hugged and petted her, most of his upper body disappearing from the beast’s sight of range from behind the mare’s neck. It was completely unnecessary to watch him to know him joyful and entirely content. He did not let go of his companion and kept petting her, rubbing her skin and apparently having the head pressed to her. If Gladio paid close attention, it seemed that Ignis every now and then said things lowly for his pet along the movements of his hands on her.  
It was like watching two friends reunite after years; it had nothing to do with him and it could or not be intimate to them, but it was so heartwarming it was impossible to not want to stare. He spent some moments just watching the friends, smiling. After a while, Lady Lunafreya appeared from out of nowhere at a side of the beast. Gladio wondered for only a second how long she had been there in the room, but he quickly brushed it off just to have the attention fully back on Ignis and Nox, with the feathered duster standing at the windowsill, at his side.

Both watched as Ignis broke from the hug and took the mare by the head. He asked her something, smiling. The mare, of course, did not reply, but her tail continued to swing at times. Ignis laughed very lowly and pressed the forehead to Nox’s, lovingly, and stayed there for some moments. Gladio smiled warmly while watching him yet again, for a moment unable to take his eyes off the scene, but soon forcing himself to. Containing a sigh in his chest, the beast let go of the frame and stood straight again. He was starting to give his back to the open window when Ignis’ voice stopped him.  
“Gladio.”

The Shield turned in silence. He felt something inside him similar to his stomach flipping upside-down, or like a pinch behind the lungs when his eyes landed again on the man. Ignis had the hands on Nox’s cheeks, and he had rested the side of his head on the mare’s face. It was different, watching him under the sunlight of the proper outside than with the one that showered through the windows. It was not the first time that Gladio ever saw him on the outside, but it felt like so, and somehow differently. His hair was almost brownish grey under the light. His skin looked whiter, but also warmer. The way he looked at the beast, with the head leaned to rest its side on the horse, with the eyes as happy and gleamy behind the glasses, and that stupid, stupidly, terrifically _pretty_ smile…  
“Thank you, Gladio” Ignis said, lowly and warmly, only enough for the beast to hear without troubles. “Thank you…so _much_ …”

Gladio could not reply. His eyes, very slightly widened, did not blink once. _No way are we missing one single second of this view, Gladio_ , his eyes seemed to tease him, and he could do nothing about it. The man was still smiling at him. It was not the first time he did that; smile and thank him with sincerity.   
_Then…why does it feel like it is?_  
The beast still watched the man for some more moments, and he was sure he was trying with all his might to open the mouth and say something, but he did not move a single inch. The man did not look away either despite the moments of silence, and he only did but even widen the smile very slightly, the head still softly rested on the mare. He looked like a relaxed, soft vision alike an angel, except without wings. Gladio looked at him and despised the things that this man was doing to his inside.   
_He’s trying to confuse me, and he’s getting it, that little jerk…_  
That thing inside him, it was strange and new but also not new. Whatever was happening inside Gladio, he knew he knew the sensation but he found it impossible to name it. 

What was it, that it messed so much with his entrails in such a strange way?

“Y-yeah” Gladio forced himself to reply. “Whatever.”  
It did not sound rude. The beast had thought maybe the man would see it that way, but Ignis only smiled at him as response, before his attention finally left Gladiolus and focused on his mare. It was a bit disappointing, that Ignis looked away. Gladio did not understand why or what the point of more awkward staring would be, but, not knowing why, he only knew how it felt. He tried not to make a big deal out of it and he continued to look at the human, watched him still petting and talking to the mare. Some moments into it, Ignis petted her cheek and started walking, calm and still a bit insecure, but definitely not afraid, finally on the outside of the castle. The mare turned around to start calmly pacing at his side. He was asking her something about her saddle and equipment, how she was treated, if she was hungry, speaking about him wanting to bathe her, then laugh and say he did not mean she smelled or anything, and continued to talk as if though the mare was really a human that Ignis was speaking with. Had it been any other situation, Gladio would have laughed and teased him for speaking as openly and as much with an animal, but he really did not react other than just by looking at them as both walked away, in complete calm and as slowly as if they had all the time of the world.

“Nox” Gladiolus heard Lady Lunafreya’s voice call softly and sweetly from her spot, bringing him out of his thoughts. “His mare has my family’s name.”  
“Right” Gladio agreed with a little smile, watching as Lady Luna giggled to herself, apparently amused by said fact.   
“This was very kind from you, Gladiolus” Luna said after a small pause. He looked down at her and found her sweetly smiling at him. “To let him wander at the gardens. Are you sure?”  
Gladio exhaled long through the nose with a subtle shrug of one shoulder as reaction, before offering a verbal answer.  
“I’ve taken him to the outside a few times, giving him a weapon” he said. “He’d have tried to escape if he wanted already. And even though he has access to almost all books, reading is tiring even for me if one overdoes it, you know” he started stretching the arms using one to pull from the other, exhaling again as he did. “Had to give him a new distraction. Just in case.”

There was a small pause, and soon Gladio washed off that intimate air around them with a little groan and sigh.  
“Besides, that makes both the mare and the man shut up their whining about wanting to be together” he said as if much more careless or uninterested.   
“It has many positive consequences, I agree” Luna said with a little nod and her wide, happy smile still present. She looked at the outside at the place they had last seen the man and breathed in softly, letting it out with a sweet, dreamy sound that made Gladio look at her again. “You’re being very kind to him. He looks happy.”  
“Eh…” Gladio said with a little shrug, not knowing what to reply. He stayed quiet and scratched lightly at his own neck. “He’s not a bad guy. Just can’t let him out. Not yet.”  
“I understand” Luna said and it sounded sincere, but not at all like an agreement.   
“I did try to kill him many times” Gladio added. “Least I can do is make him the less miserable as possible.”

There was silence afterwards. Both stared at the outside, looked at the overgrown grass, the uncared gardens and wild nature, that still managed to be surrounded by a peaceful air. A few insects flew by among the plants, and the wind gently and very subtly made the leaves of the trees dance in their place, whispering to each other.   
“Well” Luna said softly after a while, “you are making a wonderful job at that.”

Gladio kept the eyes on the outside and the plants. In the distance, he could hear the mare neighing loudly in a happy sound. He wondered if Ignis was laughing with her. 

The sound of the animal brought the image of Ignis to Gladio’s head. The way he had smiled at him and had thanked him, half-hugged to the mare, the head calmly resting on her and his eyes, those stupid green eyes on the beast. Not a single hint of rejection in them. Mere gratitude, and sweetness. And so much kindness.

Gladio shut the eyes and very subtly contained a sigh in the chest.  
 _The gods damn him._

“Yeah” he agreed in a murmur. “I hope.”


	17. The Garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're heading places, dear reader, worry not. I promise we'll get to it :)
> 
> Leave some feedback if you wish, it's always helpful! Or just stick by for the rest of the story, I'm content with just that, haha.
> 
> Thank you for the support!

“So these are the gladioli…”  
“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

Gladiolus looked at the flowers the same way than the first time he attended a Council meeting with his father; with huge curiosity, so much that anyone could mistake his expression for that of a small shock. And also some confusion. Clarus, his father, standing nearby him, smiled with a little amusement; Gladio had always been a curious child even before he could even crawl, but no matter if he had already grown to eight years, his curiosity still amazed Clarus. He was not sure if the child had expected something different, if he was disappointed, or if he just had no idea how to react now that he was in front of the flowers. He, however, decided to wait for anything that Gladiolus had to say. 

The child, on his part, kept staring around at all the flowers he spotted. He was a kid a bit too tall for his age, and he was taller than the flowers, but he still seemed to be calculating for how much, almost as if hating the idea that the gladioli reached such a height. Not like they were particularly large or the biggest flowers Gladio had seen, but these had his name. Or, better said, _he_ had their name. It was easy to tell the kid was taking this a bit too personally.  
“So? What do you think, Gladiolus?” Clarus asked after a while in which the child only looked around and touched a few of the flowers, like he expected any of them to react and try to bite him or bark or something like that. Currently, the little soon-to-be-Shield was bent down with a hand on a knee and the other stretched to touch one of the flowers.  
“Hm…” Gladio let out after a moment, tilting the head and not taking the eyes off the petals. “They’re strange.”  
“So, you don’t like them?” Clarus asked him, still standing nearby and looking at a passing butterfly.

“I like them” small Gladio replied while scratching at the back of his head. “Strange is pretty.”  
Clarus nodded in silence and only offered a wide smile, even though his son was not paying attention to him. He was too busy staring at the plants in front of him.  
“Hm…dad, so does that mean I’m strange, too?” Gladio asked his father, finally turning to look up at him. Clarus blinked at him in surprise, clearly taken off guard.  
“What do you mean, Gladio?” the Shield of King Regis asked his son.  
“I mean” kid Gladio started explaining, turning to look at the flowers again, “when they tell you ‘oh, draw a flower, kids’, everyone draws flowers like, like…” the kid stared around after he did not seem to find the words for the description he was looking for, and finally spotted one, pointing at it with a finger. “Like that one” Clarus looked in the direction and found a simple violet in among the gladioli. “No one thinks about flowers like the ones we saw yesterday, or like the gladioli” he continued, and looked up again at his father. “So the gladioli are strange, right? They’re not like the other flowers. And I’m called Gladio, like them, so it’s because I’m like these flowers, right? So does that mean that I’m strange like them?”

Clarus still looked at Gladio for a few more moments, eyes slightly widened and blinking, startled. The child was still staring up at him; Gladio did not seem to be any happier or sadder, he only looked at Clarus with that characteristic curiosity, expecting for an answer. Clarus thought about it for a moment, before looking slightly down with a tiny frown, a subtle ‘Hm…’ echoing in his throat as he thought. Soon, he looked back up at his son.  
“No” he shook the head. “Do you want to know why we named you ‘Gladiolus’?” the kid nodded up at him. “It’s not because you’re strange. It’s because you’re _different.”_

Gladio only blinked up at him and offered no reaction. It was clear the child was still waiting for something else. Clarus sighed subtly and went down on his ankles at a side of Gladio; even though he had already spoken about it with his son, Clarus still found it a bit hard to talk about it with him. About a _duty_. The duty Gladio was charged with even before being born. _Dear gods, he’s just a child, he shouldn’t have this weight on him_ , Clarus used to think every time the subject came to conversation. He was aware he himself went through the same, and he was never bothered as a child by it, but…only now that he had his own son, it seemed to be entirely different.  
“Do you see what the Gladioli look like?” Clarus asked him, turning to look at the flowers so Gladio could do the same. They stayed quiet, watching the plants being gently moved by the wind. “If you had to say they are a weapon, what would they be?”  
“Hm…swords?” Gladio asked after a silent while of thinking. Clarus smiled at him before responding.  
“Swords” the father nodded. “You are named like the flowers that look like swords. Do you know why?”  
“Because you like flowers. And…oh, also because I’ll be the guardian of the prince!” Gladio cheered and closed his fists by the height of his chest like a person who celebrates a small victory. “Ah, I get it! Wow, dad, you thought it really well! Oh wow, it makes so much sense! What is a Clarus? Is that another flower that also looks like a sword? Or does that one look like a shield? Is it big? Are there any Clarus…es…Claruses…in the gardens? Can we go see them? Dad, my name’s so cool, I’m Sword-Flower Amicitia!”

Clarus could not help a small laugh as his son almost bounced off his feet in front of him, cheering and happily speaking. The gods blessed this child’s happiness; it always softened the mood when Clarus spoke about the Shield duty. Made it seem not as heavy. He only hoped that, one day, Gladio could understand the real weight of it, while also not losing this happiness and pride about it. They would see. Clarus decided to stop overthinking as much, and only paid attention to his son, decided to spend some of his free time properly calm and as content as he was supposed to be free to. He listened to Gladio talk and ask things, and he responded and conversated with his son for a while longer, walking through the path of the garden where recently planted gladioli greeted them for every step they took. There was a moment of silence as they walked before they stopped again. Gladio put his hands on his knees to get a closer look of some of the flowers, smiling. Still quiet, both Amicitia admired the plants together.  
“I really like flowers, dad” Gladio told him after a moment, using a fingertip to caress one of the flowers. “They’re so strange and pretty.”  
“That must be a family thing, son” Clarus said with a small smile. “I really love flowers, too. And my father did, as well. You’re all an Amicitia.”

Gladio proudly grinned up at his father, who returned the happy look and put a hand to the kid’s head, messing up with his hair.  
“I really like the gardens of the Citadel” Gladio said cheerfully. “They always look amazing, and the flowers are always different depending on the season. I never get bored here!”  
“Did you know, Gladio” Clarus started telling him with a calm sigh, turning to lie his stare back on the flowers, like the kid did, “gardens tend to be a reflection of the soul and heart of person who takes care of them?”  
At the words, Gladio blinked up at him, curious and not sure if he understood. His dad was still looking at the flowers.  
“Oh, so does that mean that the gardeners of the palace have pretty souls, that’s what you mean, dad?” Gladio suggested with a happy smile.  
“That’s right” Clarus smiled at him. “The gardeners, and the person who encourages them to do such a wonderful work.”

Gladio nodded at the time his attention returned to the flowers. Both stayed in silence while admiring them for a little longer, before kid Gladio contained a loud sigh.  
“Dad, can you take me to the outside?” Gladio asked him. “I want to cut some flowers, but it will be silly if I cut the ones of the gardens.”  
“Oh? Cut some flowers? And for who? Do you have a romance that I don’t know about?” Clarus asked him with curiosity and half mockery, the harmless kind of it.  
“Wha-!? No! Ew!” the reaction, of course, was immediate. Gladio’s face deformed like somebody had suddenly thrown up on him, and he shook the head like he had a tarantula on it that he desperately tried to get rid of. Clarus could not help a low laugh while his child insisted on disgust. “Eeew! That’s gross! Of course not, dad! I’ll never have a romance, that’s gross!”  
“Oh, I wouldn’t say it like that, so confident of it” Clarus told him happily. “It’s okay if you never do, but, you know…” as he spoke, Clarus went down on his ankles to be closer to Gladio’s height, even though that made Amicitia father shorter this time, as he reached close and looked at both sides as if about to trust an important secret of international importance with the son. Which, of course, made Gladio feel extra curious and lean closer with full attention. “…maybe, one day, love will take you off guard, when you’re not looking, when you least expect it….” Clarus was whispering to his son, exaggerating the confidentiality and darkness of the situation. “…and, one day, you’ll look down at your chest, and you’ll find…that it was… _arrowed.”_

Gladio gasped at that and put the fists up as if ready to fight. Clarus had to swallow and contain a laugh not to ruin the moment.  
“Watch what you say, Gladio” Clarus told him still a bit exaggerated. “You may fall in love one day without noticing, and there will be nothing you can do about it, because by the time you realize it, you’ll probably have had been in love for weeks, months, or even _years_. And that, my child, when love is already nested in your heart, that’s irreversible.”  
“No” Gladio gasped, very serious on his words and mental process. Clarus, again, found that amusing but kept the act up.  
“Oh, yes” Clarus whispered at him. “Maybe you’ll never try to catch a romance, but that won’t stop the romance from catching _you.”_  
“No!” Gladio yelped out, finally. This time, Clarus could not help it and let out a little laugh, half-covering his mouth and enjoying of Gladio’s sudden determination. It was a bit silly, to watch his son as panicked by something as normal like romances. “Dad, that can’t happen! I don’t want to kiss anyone!” before Clarus could reply and as he continued laughing lowly, Gladio took him by the sleeve. “Dad, you have to help me! How do I notice love’s trying to take me off-guard!? How do I- if I avoid it _before_ it arrows me, I should be fine, right?”  
“Right” Clarus agreed, him joking but knowing the kid was fully serious.  
“Right!” Gladio cheered, but he still looked extremely serious. “So how do I notice if I’m falling in love!?”

“Ah, how to notice if you’re falling for someone” Clarus said lowly and still smiling, much softer this time. He stayed down on his ankles but turned to face his son instead of offering him a side view. Clarus looked up at the child. “You’re lucky you’re an Amicitia that loves flowers, because there’s an easy way for us to know when we’re falling or have fallen in love.”  
“What is it!?” Gladio asked him loudly, like it was an issue of life-or-death. Clarus smiled at him, a bit amused, and shifted to be down on a knee so he could be more comfortable after a while spent down on the ankles.  
“Gladio” Clarus called lowly, putting a finger up as if calling for full attention. The kid offered it to him. When Clarus spoke again, he did it slow, slow and careful as if wanting to emphasize every word of it without yelling it out. “You will know you’re hopelessly in love…when you realize that that person, no matter what they look like, looks, _to you_ much, _much_ more beautiful than any flower you have ever seen before in your life. _Any_ flower.”

There was silence after that. Clarus put the hand down again. There was a soft gust of wind that caressed their clothes, made the father’s cape dance slightly but not finishing to go up into the air. Gladio blinked slightly at him with a confused and slightly surprised stare.  
“…I don’t think I understand, dad” his son admitted to him.  
“That’s the most beautiful part of it, Gladio” Clarus told him, smiling. “That you won’t _really_ understand until you see it, or…until it happens to you.”  
Gladio did not react to that with fear. It was clear the kid understood this was a serious conversation, and he was putting his seriousness into thinking about it. He stared down for a moment, eyebrows furrowing, as if thinking about it with all his intelligence but not managing to find the correct answer.

Some moments into it, his father reacted to something. Something above Gladio’s shoulder called his attention, and when he laid eyes on that, Clarus’ smile disappeared and he seemed to be taken slightly off-guard. Gladio looked back up at him, to find his father looking at something behind Gladio…with different eyes. Now that Gladio compared, he realized that his dad’s eyes, something about them looked…different to the stare he was giving him just seconds ago. He saw his father stand up with that odd look on his face that Gladio thought he made whenever he looked at the fireworks of every New Year. Curious, Gladio turned as well.  
There, standing enough but not too many yards away, stood king Regis, carrying with the little prince in his arms. They were looking at the gladioli as well, and the king seemed to be happily talking a lot with the child, that looked at the plants with his huge, blue eyes, in complete silence like he was still a baby that did not know how to speak.  
Gladio looked at them with curiosity, blinking at them. They were oblivious to the Amicitia presence nearby, and focused in their own father-and-son time. The king wore elegant, like always, but nothing particularly formal. He, like Clarus, had free time, after all. Still, etiquette asked him to wear a cape. Black had always suited the king, and so it suited the tiny prince, even when he was as young. 

Gladio looked at them, then back at his father. Clarus still had that weird look on him. It was like it was the first time he looked at the king in his life, or like the king had some wings to his back that only Clarus could see. Gladio looked at one and then the other for a couple times. Well, that was the usual stare that Clarus always gave to Regis, even when the king was aware of his presence…but kid Gladio started connecting things.  
A few moments later, the king turned in their direction, finally noticing. Clarus did not flinch nor did he look away. He kept looking at his king; unlike himself, Regis still kept the same haircut than in younger days, maybe a bit bulkier, but it was infested by grey lines. White hair was common to start growing at their age, but not in that quantity. And not that Regis had all the hair white, no, but he was too young for those noticeable lines across the sides of his head and on a lock at his forehead. To be so young, he also looked a bit more haggard than he should. To be so young…he looked more tired than he should. To be so young, to be so young, to be so young. Keeping the Wall up…ever since Regis had ascended to the throne, the situation for Lucis had improved very positively…but, in exchange, Regis seemed to age twice the faster now.  
And Clarus, knowing he was selfish, could not help but despise that and wish Regis had never turned king. Not if it implied all this.

But Regis did not seem to mind. Indeed, when he looked at the Amicitia, he offered a wide and very kind smile at them, taking his time on each turn. He looked at Noctis, in his arms, and seemed to be telling him to say Hi. The prince waved his little hand at them, still quiet, and so Regis waved at them. The Amicitia returned the gesture, as friendly. Gladio was still looking at the king, the head slightly tilted, when he heard his father containing a big and almost ethereal-like sigh. It made Gladio look back up at him, and he found his dad was smiling very oddly in a way that Gladio had seen him do only to king Regis.  
He had seen that for so long all over his life that he had assumed that it was related to some etiquette he had not been taught about, some silly rules about the way one, as Amicitia Shield, had to look at and smile at and behave towards the king…  
But now it made sense.

“Well, where were we?” Clarus asked Gladio after a moment, looking down at him.  
“Dad?” his son called.  
“Yes, Gladio?”

Eight-year-old Gladio smiled brightly at him, head thrown back to be able to look at his father.

“I think I get it now!”

 

 _A reflection of the soul and heart of the person that takes care of them._  
The gardens of the Citadel used to be beautiful. There was not a day that passed without the gardeners doing something to it, even if something as simple as just checking on the bushes. The kind care of the plants had been partly order of King Regis. The gardeners always tended to make them look good, but they were often only looked after when they grew out of aesthetic. King Regis had it different; he ordered a proper care of the flowers further the looks of them, and he requested the gardeners took care of the health of the plants instead of their appearance. The results were those of a garden a thousand times more beautiful than what it used to be in days before Gladio was born, and all this he knew because of his father. And nobody needed to tell Gladio how King Regis kept his gardens.

Stunning. That was maybe the only word. Pretty was very accurate, but so tiny to describe the beauty of the gardens in Regis’ reign. It was all perfectly taken care of. Healthy flowers on healthy plants. Hallways and hallways of endless flowers and bushes and trees. King Regis had a particular liking for flowers, in more than just the metaphorical way, and it was very clear on the looks of the gardens.  
They were always so pretty, so well groomed, so _alive_.  
And now it was the total opposite.

It was mid-summer, so that was a vantage for the once beautiful gardens, seen as there was no option for flowers but to be in full bloom. But it was all out of control and completely left in oblivion. The grass grew to its limit, sticking upwards in all directions. Flowers were scattered here and there without any order. Most withered by not being taken care of like in days of old, and nobody removed the already dead ones, which mixed among the half-dead and the living ones. Plants had broken through some of their urns, and some plants that were the plague kind rather than healthy ones grew throughout it all. Many of them covered the outside wall and even part of the castle walls themselves. Some plants had grown so much they covered entire sculptures of the garden. One covered an entire small kiosk.

The reflection of the heart of the person in charge of it, huh?  
Well, Gladio was not sure if it was a reflection of his heart, but it sure was that of his mind; messed up, destroyed, chaotic, without any order, and entirely different in a very negative way from what it used to be.  
Plants growing with no control, withered flowers, darkened petals, a sad atmosphere, plague plants, a mess of grass….  
And then there was Ignis. The intruder. The unwanted visitor, walking among the disaster. Like a butterfly in a wasteland; too visually pretty to be in such an ugly place. It was a great contrast impossible to not notice; like a pretty, green and sparkling dot flying in among the warzone; tiny, sure, but the most noticeable thing out of being the only color, the only spark, the only light, the only thing that looked alive in that place. It was odd and it did not fit, to watch something as pretty walking among the disgusting. The beauty walking its way through the ugly.  
But Ignis seemed to enjoy of it.

He did not look as ecstatic as the previous evening, when Gladio had first let him out. Apparently, what he had been so eager about the previous day had been on spending some time with his mare while properly outside, but not necessarily walking around the entire garden. Ignis was content with just the perimeter of the castle, apparently, and the small stable Nox stayed at. There, he had met and befriended the furniture and other objects that took care of her (shovels, carts, rakes to recall some, some of which he already knew from his work at the little harvest square), and he seemed to engage in conversation with them before losing a good two hours just bathing Nox, taking his time and stopping to pet or spoil her at times. Gladio had never seen him being as physical with anything before; the man did not seem to be the physical kind of person that hugged or even shook hands, but the mare was an entire different thing.  
Or perhaps it had just been that Ignis’ body _literally_ starved from some touch…seen as he had spent some months not dealing with any creature but mere objects, and Gladiolus. Who, of course, was not precisely the most attractive choice to reach for a touch.

That Ignis could or not be in touch-starvation without noticing was an odd idea for Gladiolus; he could not imagine the human hugging anything, not even his own father. He was starting to discover Ignis really was kind, but kindness did not necessarily equal to loving, or to clingy. Ignis seemed to enjoy a lot of his personal space. The most that Gladio had ever seen him do was to allow Talcott on his shoulder. Out of there, he did not tend to carry around with the furniture, to let them on him, to poke anyone just to be playful, and he had not touched the beast. Of course, that is, if they did not count the time he nursed Gladio from his wounds, but that had been a necessity, really. But even when he gave out this aura that said Ignis enjoyed very little of physical affection, he was still a human. A complex human with a heart and emotions. Three months and half with no other species to treat with, and always locked on the inside…well, it would be the most natural thing that Ignis, even if he did not notice and would never do, could be starving for some physical contact, even if only a hand on the shoulder, even if only a finger on his arm. Something. _Anything._

Gladio would not have understood or had had that theory was he not in the same position, except worse. To be sincere, the Shield had had no idea what “touch-starvation” meant until he spent a year all on his own and it hit him. Lady Lunafreya explained to him the literal physical necessity of the body of coming to contact with equals, and the understanding of it had made it…bearable. It did not make it any easier or any harder, just…bearable. Like understanding a terminal disease; it won’t make it go away, but knowing what it is takes away the paranoia of the uncertain and makes you…somehow resign that it will be that way no matter what you do. ‘It can’t be that bad’, Gladio had thought at first.  
And then he spent five years without any physical contact.  
It was precisely because he knew that the starvation of the skin asking for a little contact was real and that it could happen in a matter of weeks that he guessed Ignis could or not be starting to touch-starve. It started at different points for everyone according to their situation (some took longer, some not), but he was pretty sure that three months and half was quite a time without any contact from anyone.

But what could he do about that? Go and hug the man? Of course, it would be brilliant, if only it was not a stupid idea. First of all, Ignis would not in a thousand years agree for any touch from the beast. Despite the gratitude he had shown and despite him being explicitly aware that Gladio was behaving kindly towards him, Gladio knew that Ignis still saw him as his captor. Gladio could not go and put a hand to his shoulder, or a finger to his arm, or anything without Ignis reacting and most surely getting away. It would be a normal reaction even if Gladio had been human, what with their situation. But, if that was not enough, there was also the fact that Gladio was _not_ human, and not only not human, but also a _beast_. A hideous, imposing beast. He understood that Ignis was being kind to him, because it was from afar. But no way would the human, in another thousand years, reach to pat him on the back or touch him on the arm. Gladio was…his looks were…he was _scary_. Even if he had shown himself to be harmless, his looks were still scary. It was just completely normal and natural that nobody would ever want to touch him on free will. Let alone someone as reserved as Ignis. 

So what, though? Both could be touch-starving, but it was not like any of them would die from it. Gladio could live with that. And he knew Ignis would rather touch-starve than allow Gladio to ever lie a finger on him.

 

That second day of being allowed outside, Gladio stared at Ignis to see what kind of behavior he presented. He had been so excited the previous evening on being with his mare that only on that second day was he now really paying attention to the gardens. Gladio had added a last condition that Ignis did not complain about; guards watching his movements. They could leave him to do as he pleased, but if they watched from their spot some odd or suspicious behavior or any attempt of escape, they would alert and Gladio would know. Ignis had not shown any complaint to that, and he even seemed to enjoy some conversation with his guard on that short morning walk outside. This time, it was Nyx who walked behind him, waddling lightly due to his too separated feet, and the arms calmly behind himself. It was very easy to spot him among any other coat rack thanks to his blueish scarf. Nyx was not the most talkative either, at least not when he was on duty. But it was perhaps the freedom that he did not have any ‘formal’ duty anymore now as the life of the Citadel was no more, or maybe Ignis was too charming without being necessarily outgoing, but Nyx was having and enjoying some conversation with Ignis at times as he followed the human around. 

Ignis did not get to see much, though. He only seemed to take a walk around the perimeter of the castle rather than actually go into the gardens. It was very early, before breakfast. Gladio had woken up to the news that Ignis was already outside. _Pretty desperate, hm?_ Gladio had thought to himself with a little chuckle, but he also understood. No one but him in his current state knew best the necessity of going outside and hating to be caged away like an animal.  
After breakfast, both had parted ways again, but Ignis did not immediately go to the outside like Gladio thought he would. The man, instead, stayed in the castle to do…whatever he did every day. So Gladio decided to do his normal stuff as well.  
That day, he was a bit late to his usual schedule for working out, having gotten distracted with other things, but it was not like anyone would chide him, anyway. So, an hour later than usual and with no warning, he went to the training hall.  
Only to walk in on Ignis in the middle of his own working-out. 

Ignis looked as startled as Gladio when the beast walked into the training hall to find Ignis in the middle of it doing push-ups. Both froze for a moment and looked at each other in total and awkward silence. _Timing_ , not ever their greatest skill. Ignis left his push-up position and sat leg crossed.  
“Uhm…” the man reached a hand up to caress lightly at his own neck. “My apologies.”  
“Whatever” Gladio quickly shrugged it off, thankful that he at least had not walked in on a shirtless Ignis. He did not want the man to think him a creep, so the last that he needed was to look at Ignis’ body without his permission. _It’s just a torso, dammit_ , he knew he did not have to make a deal out of it, but Ignis was never shirtless around. He seemed to be ‘particularly fond of being dressed’ (…Gladio’s mental process’ only way of describing it), so maybe he would get particularly upset of being seen topless? If it was a big deal for Ignis or not, Gladio did not want to find out. 

Ignis looked at the beast as if expecting him to return from where he came from. But Gladio only ignored him and reached for some equipment and messed there for a moment. Ignis still looked at him as if a little annoyed. Gladio looked over his shoulder at him once and raised an eyebrow. Ignis mirrored him, and both gave each other a cocky and annoyed glance.  
It was clear none of them was taking his leave.  
_I was here first_ , Ignis’ eyes and expression almost seemed to scream. Almost as if literally hearing it, Gladio reacted with a sarcastic chuckle.  
_Sure, but the training hall’s mine, we go by my rules_ , Gladio’s chuckle and expression seemed to say as the beast took a wooden stick from the equipment. Detail big enough to let Ignis know the beast was planning to start training whether Ignis left or not.  
_Oh, no, not when it’s my turn in here_.  
Ignis, not close to give up his time in the training hall, only frowned, annoyed, and returned to his push-up position, and started again as if nothing had interrupted him.

Gladio, on his part, chuckled lowly. To be honest, he was only testing Ignis, and his internal question had a confirmation; Ignis was more stubborn than a chocobo, even more than a damn chickatrice. He had to admire that from Ignis; not the stubbornness, but his courage. He was being excessively proud and stubborn not on a person, but on a beast that could tear him in pieces with one hand and barely any effort at all. It was so brave that it was reckless and stupid.  
And Gladio liked that. 

When the beast saw the man re-starting his push-ups, Gladio left the wooden stick behind and headed for some yards of distance from the man and went down to the floor as well. Ignis stopped to look up at him with questioning and still proud eyes. The gesture and action were pretty clear; _are you daring me, human? Let’s see who’s better._  
Ignis rolled the eyes lightly at him and saw Gladio grin cockily at him, both in total silence, before the beast started doing push-ups as well. Ignis frowned lightly at him. _Oh, yes, so we’re playing that game? Fine, it’s a game for two._  
And so, Ignis started doing push-ups again. Sometimes he looked up to find Gladio still staring at him with that smug expression, which only fired him up. At some point, Ignis started speeding up. Gladio raised the eyebrows and sped up _more_ than him. Ignis rolled the eyes with a small exhale of exasperation, and Gladio laughed lowly. The man, fired up again, speeded up _more_ than Gladio. 

Prompto and Iris, standing in silence nearby a column, watched it with a bit of worry but also not helping to laugh; the scene was stupidly comical if seen from a third viewer. It was the most childish of fights the beast and the man had had, and yet they were fully serious on it like it was a life or death issue.  
Soon, during their push-up contest, Ignis started to breathe noticeably heavy. Gladio looked at him and put a hand to his back, and continued the push-ups. Ignis frowned at him. And, suddenly, he put a hand to his back as well and _continued_ and even _speeded up_. Gladio raised both eyebrows at him and laughed, but it did not sound any cocky. The tone of it made Ignis himself suddenly cool inside and start smiling, but he did not slow down for a moment.  
The silly contest continued for more moments…before Ignis, teeth clenching and with constant hissing and slight half-swallowed groaning of pain, almost collapsed. His hand came from his back to return to the floor, and his legs dropped in their place, leaving him standing only partly on a hand and an elbow. He was sweating pretty badly, and his arms trembled like they were a baby lamb’s legs in its first attempt of walking. 

Of course, the laugh followed immediately. Ignis panted and his mouth sometimes clicked in contained, swallowed groans as he stayed down there, trying not to fully collapse, while hearing as the beast laughed. Soon enough, the man sat up but kept the arms loose to let them rest, and the head down as he still panted.  
“Weak” Gladio said with a smirk while still doing push-ups with a hand, bragging.  
The furniture looked at Ignis, worried on his reaction. Knowing the man, or…at least, knowing how the man had reacted so far to Gladiolus making fun of him, they expected Ignis to get upset and deliver some sassy, mean comment.  
Maybe that was why it took them off guard when Ignis rolled the eyes and only conversated.  
“That was totally unfair” Ignis said while pulling the chin up. “I already have an hour in here, so my body was already tired. You’re bigger and rested, so _of course_ I would collapse first.”  
“Weak” Gladio repeated with the same smug look on his face.

Again, the furniture looked at Ignis in fear of his reaction. Beast and man had already started to develop a friendship, but it was still starting. They feared maybe Gladio would ruin it and they would go back to the endless arguing between both.  
“I am most positively not weak, sire” Ignis told him, and the furniture tagged his tone and expression for that of truly angered. “You’re just unfairly strong.”  
“It’s first time you admit I’m stronger than you, thank you very much” Gladio continued to brag.  
“I did _not_ say that, Gladiolus” Ignis told him with the raise of an eyebrow.  
“Yeah, but you didn’t deny it” Gladio said as he stopped the push-ups and sat down as well.  
Prompto and Iris looked a bit fearful at the Shield, concerned on his sudden sarcastic and rude behavior, before turning their attention to Ignis. Silently, both seemed to be pleading to the Astrals for the situation to not mess everything up, to not ruin their relationship they had slowly built up until now. Still, part of them expected Ignis to roll the eyes at him, sigh, and start taking his leave to go somewhere else.  
Ignis did roll the eyes, but smiled.  
“You’re impossible, Gladio” Ignis told the beast with that smile that was both of defeat and a slight amusement. 

The beast laughed for a few moments, and Prompto and Iris smiled at the sound and the situation and shared a glance before looking at them again, expecting for whatever was next. Beast and man stayed sat one in front of the other, except for the yards in between.  
“Didn’t mean to walk on in you, Ignis” Gladio told him, now with all the sarcasm off the tone of his voice, softened to a…normal, friendly one. “I had no idea you were here.”  
“That’s fine” Ignis said and pushed his glasses up his nose. The motion made Gladio smirk a bit and look away, clearly containing a laugh. “What?”  
“You wear glasses even when doing push-ups?”  
Ignis looked at him with confusion as if asking what he meant, before reaching a hand up to touch his glasses again, like he had not had an idea that they were there. He looked up at Gladio before snapping the head another way, sensing the blush creep up his face. That, however, only made Gladiolus laugh.  
“…I tend to easily forget they’re there” Ignis excused himself. “I usually take them off to exercise. I don’t know what happened today.”

Gladio laughed a bit more.  
“Today? You also wear them whenever we’ve gone hunt outside” Gladio noted. “Aren’t you scared they’ll break? You move and jump a lot and do all those weird acrobatic moves. How come they haven’t broken yet? Why do you insist on taking them out to battle? It’s the only pair you’ve got, you know.”  
“I do thank your concern, but I would also thank it if you wouldn’t bombard me with these many questions at once” Ignis told him. “I can answer everything if you only let me speak somewhere in between, you know?”  
“Wow, okay, I’m just curious” Gladio said with a smile and roll of the eyes. “Seriously, don’t take your glasses to battle. Or is your sight really _that_ bad?”  
“Actually, it is not” Ignis said after a little pause, as if he had hesitated and reflected on whether speaking with the beast this casually was normal, almost as if considering if there could be a trick on it, and almost as if considering if he _wanted_ to speak with Gladio at all. But he tried not to be rude with his host, and only answered. “My eyesight is very acceptable even without my spectacles.”  
“ _Spectacles”_ Gladio said with a silly chuckle. The silly amusement of the word reminded Ignis of Noctis. “Then why wear them? Even worse, to battle? What if they break and you get glass _in your eye?”_

Once said that, the beast exaggeratedly shivered as if frightened by the idea.  
“Well, I wear them so my sight is a hundred percent perfect instead of only ninety or so” Ignis explained like he was answering one of the kids he used to teach back in Northern Insomnia’s academy. “I am not one for ambiguity. And I like to keep them on battle more than in any other situation; a perfect sight allows you to analyze your opponent, look at every detail of the battlefield, be fully aware of your surroundings. A tiny detail could be the difference. Every tiny detail counts and could give you a vantage if you pay attention to it and learn to use it to your favor” he continued to explain like he was quoting by heart some book on battle strategy. Gladio only rolled the eyes again; there was no way to deny this was a teacher. He had that boring way of preaching. “And no, I don’t think they’ll shatter into my eyes. I am pretty careful with that.”  
“Right, I get it” Gladio said. “But if they break just know you can’t complain I don’t have another pair and that it’ll be entirely your fault.”  
“I will take that in consideration, thank you very much” Ignis replied, not worried at all and with the respiration back to normal.

There was a small pause in which Gladio saw the man keep a sigh in the chest, clearly much calmer from the silly contest they had had just some moments ago.  
“Speaking of” Gladio called after a moment, leaning the weight back to support it on his hands, “I was checking the pantries. Running low on meat again.”  
“…hm” Ignis looked away and put a hand to his chin, as if deep in thoughts. “We shall look up to that.”  
“We ‘shall’, indeed” Gladio said with a very failed impression of his guest’s voice, smiling. “That’s why I was thinking, what do you say we go hunt again?” at the offer, Ignis tilted the head very slightly to a side and gave a questioning expression to the beast, who tried to explain almost immediately. “I mean, first time was to study you, I admit, but now I was just thinking, you know, uh…” Gladio scratched at his own neck, looking slightly away for a moment but keeping a rather friendly small smile. “I just thought it’d be healthy for you. That maybe you’d like that, you know…to properly run and be outside and all. Stretch those muscles. Breathe some air. Stuff.”

Ignis still looked at him with that curious and slightly suspicious stare. He kept the eyes on the beast’s, then quickly scanned him before looking again at Gladiolus’ stare.  
“Well…if it’s not any attempt of murder” Ignis said and, while Gladio rolled the eyes, the man smiled very subtly while looking away, “I will accept your offer.”

\--

There was something odd about going to hunt together. Something that none of them could name but could feel. It was very noticeable, and even though none of them shared the thoughts aloud, it was clear both were aware of the presence of that…thing. Whatever it was, whatever name it received, it was as if though hunting swallowed them into another universe in which they had not met the way they did, in which they had never been enemies in the past, and in which they were and had always been a pair of longtime friends enjoying their time together. When they went out to hunt, it was almost as if they forgot about Ignis’ captive state and Gladio’s beast form, and they were just…just that, friends. A pair of young men laughing at the other, daring each other childishly, throwing the arms up in victory when it was accurate, and sharing some conversation. It could be nothing important, and focused mostly on just teasing each other or delivering sarcastic comments, but it felt…different than whenever they had argued in the castle.

Whenever Gladio went out to hunt, he tended to easily forget about his beast form. The Beast asked him to go hunt even when not necessary, so to keep the instincts down the only thing he could do was obey them. And when he was out there, running free, slashing down with the sword, roaring and working-out, he felt like a man again. He felt free of all the fur and the claws and horns.  
What he could not understand was _what_ about hunting made him forget about his misery, because, apparently, it also affected Ignis in a personal way, and it made him forget about his own misery too.  
Miseries gone, there was nothing left but…entertainment. Some sort of joy, perhaps? Whether they had something to talk about or not, hunting always seemed to lift their moods and it was much easier to deal with each other.  
It was almost enjoyable.  
No. That had been the last time they went hunting. This time, it _was_ enjoyable.

That day, like the previous times Gladio took him hunting, he was amazed by Ignis’ fighting skills. It was so different to his own way…and different looked fantastic. This time, Gladio did not fear to praise him. Once, properly. Many times, more subtly. Sometimes he would just laugh and clap a bit whenever the man landed the spear right onto the enemy, and Ignis had a smug face on himself every time. Gladio would take that as a dare and he would try to do something as impressive, and he usually succeed. All that he earned from Ignis could be a failed-to-contain smile and some rude-but-not-really compliment. It felt good, seeing Ignis leave the pride to half-admit the beast had good battle moves. There was once when Ignis had to clap for him as well, but said nothing. Gladio insisted on him like a teenager to praise him, but Ignis refused with as much insistency. The childish argument only got the beast laughing and an Ignis feeling stupid by understanding the other was not serious and was only teasing him.

They let themselves get so carried away into hunting that they did not notice the teaming-up they did until much later as they were already leaving to the castle; in a moment, they had been ambushed by a pack of sabertusks, and they immediately faced opposite sides with the backs facing each other even if with some distance in between. With no words, both had chosen which side of the battlefield they would cover, and they split forces in some order instead of attacking each on a turn or each on their side. In some point of the battle, Ignis looked at the beast in a fleeting glance that Gladio immediately understood; Ignis, from his side, threw his lance towards one of the animals, far at the other side of the battlefield, and hit it dead. And as soon as it hit ground, Gladio was already taking the lance, swinging it to a side to smash a sabertusk that was just throwing itself to him, swung it back and throw it towards Ignis, who was landing from one of his dodges and took the weapon mid-air, only to swing it once in his hand and finish stabbing the last of the animals. All in just a matter of a few, poor, fleeting seconds. 

The cheer of victory had come from both sides, even Ignis himself, who only tended to just sigh or clap quietly. This time, he did the same than always except a bit more excited, and added a small ‘We won’ as if satisfied of himself. The movements had been all so natural that they did not pay attention to it nor noticed it had been a team work, and they simply started leaving to look for some spices somewhere near there, without even processing what had just happened.  
Not until later, when they reached their resting point; that beginning of the downhill from where they could appreciate the distant landscape of the wild, with the big lake and the big rock structures in the far distance as the main attraction of the real-life painting.

Midsummer kept almost the same quantity of flowers than the last time Ignis went hunting with Gladio; there where they sat there was growing and green grass with only a few yellow dots here and there, but as the downhill deepened, the more of the tiny yellow and some pink flowers appeared, until there was a point (only some yards of distance from the man and the beast) where there were more flowers than grass. Nearby them there was a large set of bushes, decorated with a couple flowers here and there.  
That day, Ignis sat with three yards of space between him and the beast. Once settled in their place, and after only a few comments here and there, they fell in silence and only looked at the distance. The sun was already falling, but still with a few hours left before reaching his sunset spot, so the sky remained mostly blue instead of red. The wind blew strong on them, pushing hair and clothes back, but not with force enough to be unbearable. The sound of falling leaves hissed into the silence. Minutes went by like that, only calming, breathing, and watching the distance.

That was until Gladio let out a groan at the time he stretched the arms above his head, and he let his back go down until he was lying on the grass.  
“Such a nice day” the beast said almost half to himself, closing the eyes and putting both hands behind his head. Ignis only looked at him as he lied there, and waited as if expecting any other reaction or comment, but Gladio stayed thrown there as if already asleep. The man kept the eyes on him for a moment. He brought his knees up and weakly hugged them, resting the side of his head on them, and keeping the eyes on the beast.  
Ignis blinked like a curious child. Gladio looked very relaxed. The man could not help but look down and to a side; the beast had dropped his sword there, between them instead of hidden from Ignis like he had done the first time. And he just lied there, as if prepared for a nap, breathing calm. Ignis remembered the other times they had gone hunting; Gladio had not let the sword be between them but rather on his other side so Ignis would have to go over him if he wanted to take the weapon, or he had kept a hand close to it. This time, however, the sword rested on the grass, vulnerable to be taken by any of them, and the beast kept eyes closed and both his hands behind his head. He was more than just off-guard. He was exposed.

Ignis blinked at him again in curiosity. He did not understand. If Gladio had forgotten to take precautions, that was odd to think; the beast had shown himself extremely careful on every detail of the captivity. So this could only mean that…Gladio simply trusted the man meant no harm to him. Trusted so sincerely he did not even think about saying ‘Hey, so here’s my sword, I trust you’, he simply lied there. Because it did not even cross his mind. He did not even think of the possibility that Ignis could take advantage of it and hurt him.  
_I don’t understand_ , Ignis blinked at him again. This was so carefree and natural, it could not and was not faked. Ignis was trained to identify that sort of things. If it was so natural…then did the beast really trust him? _But why?_  
How easy it could be to just take that sword and slash down on him. The sword was big enough to finish a beast this size.

_But that would be horrible. He’s not a monster. I don’t want to kill him._

Ignis really did not want that. Gladio could have attempted to do it against him a couple times, sure, but it had not entirely been his fault. Something had bothered him those times, something had upset him and he simply lost control of himself. But when he was not…that thing…when he was conscious, he was…  
_Kind. And also shy. He’s the least frightening thing in Eos. He gets awkward and stutters sometimes. And he’s worked hard to not bother me…_  
Ignis found himself smiling softly and very warmly, the cheek resting against his knees and the eyes down. They moved up to scan the beast again. Gladio was still smiling and in the same position, breathing softly. Ignis wondered if he was sleeping. If Gladio trusted him enough to sleep while the man was armed and outside.  
_He has a good heart. Why would anyone want to hurt such an innocent soul?_

Ignis stared away after a few moments. He contained a sigh in his chest and closed the eyes.  
He felt so calm…  
Some seconds later, he pulled the head up again and looked back to the landscape of the distance. The wind blew again, and made the leaves of the trees hiss and whisper. It reminded Ignis of falling leaves, and that reminded him of Fall. He had been half spring and half summer in the castle already, and before he would notice, it would be Fall. It sounded strange, and so long when put that way. His smile faded as his thoughts continued coming. He was not expecting to be released any time soon. Sometimes, he prepared himself for years of captivity. Sometimes, he thought it would be one year…still a long way to go. But that was the best case; he was not expecting to be freed any time sooner than a whole year. For a moment, he did not understand; Gladio was showing and putting a lot of trust in him. Just then, Ignis could easily murder him, but Gladio trusted he would not (and Ignis really would not). If Gladio already trusted him as much, or at least enough…why had he not let him out yet? It was enough, right? They were…starting to be friends. Or something. Ignis felt his face burn at the thought.  
_Not friends. Just…friendly acquaintances that treat each other good. That’s it. Just two creatures that know each other and like each other._  
_Like. I said Like. Do I…like him?_

Ignis sighed and closed the eyes, trying to shut the thoughts. One of them triggered three more, each of which triggered five and so on. It was ridiculous and happened all the time. He went back on the threads of thoughts to what had started to bother him; Gladio trusting in him, but still keeping him prisoner. It made no sense. Perhaps, Ignis thought, it was not whether Gladio trusted _him_ or not, but rather…if he trusted Caleo.  
Caleo.  
_Dad._  
The man blinked and kept the knees weakly hugged with an arm, the other hand distracted on pulling at the grass (without ripping it off the ground). He fought with himself for some seconds, telling himself three long and loud ‘No’, forbidding himself to start thinking on that, but the thought broke into his head like water breaking a dam.  
He wondered what his father could be doing in those moments. If he had retaken his routine like nothing had happened…if he gave his classes, worked on strange inventions, worked at the small garden of the house to keep himself distracted. He wondered how life without himself was for his father. He trusted Cindy was attending him. That he had told no one. And that he kept the hopes up.

Ignis closed the eyes for a moment.  
_No matter how long it takes…_  
_I swear I’m going home, father. Don’t you dare leave this world without seeing me walk through the door again. It won’t be long._  
He looked at the sky again. He wondered if Caleo was seeing it in that same moment. Wondered what his father was doing. 

He was interrupted from his thoughts again when Gladio groaned again and pulled himself up. The groan continued as he moved, until it turned into a yawn. Ignis got to see his mouth, the upper fangs, and the way the tongue moved back like a dog yawning. The man contained a small laugh and looked away not to let it out, and Gladio either did not notice or did not mind, because he offered no complain. Once sat and done yawning, Gladio licked at his own lips and lazily rubbed at his eyes, muttering something.  
“Come again?”  
“I said” Gladio said and paused for a tiny groan as he stretched himself again, “let’s go back now.”  
“Of course” Ignis agreed quietly and pulled himself up on his feet. Gladio did so as well, taking up his sword, and he waited until Ignis started walking.

Gladio turned and started walking at his side.  
“Look at yourself” Ignis said some moments later as they walked towards the outside wall of the castle, glancing at Gladio’s back. “You’ve got all your shirt covered in grass and dirt now.”  
“Hm?” Gladio tried to look at his own back, looking mostly disinterested, before he lazily and casually started rubbing at his own back. Another tiny childish argument went on as Ignis instructed him on where to pat and Gladio tried, once or twice complaining that ‘I can’t reach there’, what only made Ignis laugh very lowly and shortly before continuing to give verbal instructions so the beast cleaned himself.  
The event was unimportant and small, but it reminded Gladio for once second of the thought that he had had previously that morning, about touch-starvation and the fact that Ignis would never dare to lie a single finger on him for any reason in a million years. And there was the proof; he kept telling Gladio were to rub at instead of doing it himself. And not that Gladio wanted, but had it been a friend-with-friend case, or human-to-human at least, anyone else would have reached to the spots Gladio did not reach himself to brush off the dirt and grass. Not Ignis; he kept giving verbal instructions. It did not even cross his head to do the favor himself. 

Gladio knew it, and this only confirmed it, so it was no big deal.  
_If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be thinking this much on it._  
Gladio mentally growled and hated himself for a moment. This was just a man pointing at him he had dirtied his shirt, nothing more. And Gladio’s head had decided to make an entire analysis of that. Fantastic. He, however, insisted that he really did not care; he had not expected Ignis to ever touch him, he already knew, so it did not have to bother him. He would not build false hopes. 

They continued to go towards the castle, and only then did the subject on their teaming up came up. Both engaged in friendly conversation during the rest of the way to the castle in a strange way that they had not shared before. Not like that. When they conversated, it was usually an exchange of sarcastic comments for lack of a talking matter. And now that there was one…it felt strange.  
But definitely good.  
Sadly, the conversation and revival of the previous event of that day died a few yards from the doors of the outside wall. The silence, however, was comfortable enough for neither of them to lament the conversation had died. It had been good, and both stayed in the good mood it left to themselves. Once reaching the doors, Gladio opened them, giving his back to the man instead of a side. Ignis was not sure if Gladio was conscious of how off-guard he had started to act in front of the man, and he did not want to point it out for some odd reason he could not explain, but it made him feel like he was being complimented. 

Doors opened, Gladio let Ignis walk in before himself, and closed the doors again. They dropped the weapons at a side of the door (where Gladio claimed he would recover them later). Ignis was looking around himself, and Gladio followed his stare, trying to understand what was in the man’s head.  
“Oh, right” the beast called. “Just last evening I told you that you could roam in the gardens, but you haven’t had a chance, huh?”  
“Well, I was pretty busy today, was I not?” Ignis said and Gladio had feared maybe the man was upset, but when the human turned, he had a soft and tiny smile upon his face. “Don’t worry. I enjoyed it.”  
“A-ah…” Gladio’s deer-like ears moved up as if flinching, and he froze for a moment but forced himself to say something. “Sure. Glad you did. I had fun, too.”  
Ignis kept the eyes on him a few more moments before turning again to stare around himself at the overgrown grass. Once Ignis had looked away, Gladio’s body relaxed as so did his ears; sometimes, Ignis’ blazing eyes caught him when he was not expecting it, and it made him nervous. It was best when the man looked away, if Gladio was sincere.

To their sides, the grass and plants had grown so much they were taller than them and did not allow Ignis to curiously glance further into the gardens. Still, the man did not say anything else and only started walking towards the castle. Gladio wanted to know what Ignis would do next, but he feared to sound clingy or like he was harassing him. He did not want Ignis to think he suspected of every movement he did, so Gladio swallowed his curiosity and decided to not ask him and only followed behind him. They walked in silence for most of the way, the path opening up so they could look at their sides now with no troubles, but still surrounded by overgrown and wild plants.  
“I do kind of wish to explore it, though” Ignis said out of the blue, sounding as if though he had been containing it but could not keep it in any longer.  
“Huh?”

The question took Gladio off-guard. He had not expected for the man to say anything else, so he was easily startled when the man spoke. Startled and a bit clumsy in his big feet, Gladio’s claws got stuck in an overgrown root out of place that got in his way, and, as he was mid-step when the claw got stuck in the wood, the beast tripped and stumbled for a few seconds, before he stumbled forwards, unable to stop himself. Ignis had no time to react or turn when the beast’s big figure accidentally started falling on him, pushing him. But Gladio, after stumbling and reacting out of panic for not wanting to fall flat onto Ignis, managed to recover balance at the time he stretched both hands ahead and got some sort of hug from the man, pulling him close and turning him in one same motion as Gladio himself stopped his stumbling, managing to not only not fall down but also catch Ignis before the man fell as well, with Ignis reacting in a reflex when his hands flew up to get a grip of the beast’s arms, gripping the sleeves of his shirt. It happened quickly, in no more than four seconds.

Once safe and on their feet, Gladio opened the arms at the time Ignis softened the fists that held onto the beast’s clothing, but he kept the hands there on the other’s forearms, taking a step back while letting out a small exhale of relief.  
“Gods, I’m sorry, Ignis” the beast apologized while keeping the arms up, because Ignis kept the hands there as if for support. Gladio did not react to that; this had been exactly the same than any other time that the human had dared to touch him; out of an accident, inevitably, out of reflex. Not a decision on free will. So it caused nothing in him and he paid no major attention to it. Soon enough, Ignis let go of his arms and put the hands down, smiling lightly. “Did I…” suddenly, Gladio’s voice lowered and his expression changed in what Ignis almost tagged as Fear. Then, the beast was looking down on the man, searching for something. “Did I…hurt you? Are you okay? I wasn’t thinking and I…”

As he spoke, Gladio took a step back and looked down at the man all over the torso. Ignis, a bit startled at the gesture, blinked and only let him stare, before the beast went behind him to also check his back, asking that scared and shy ‘Did I hurt you?’ once more. Gladio turned to his front again, still checking him.  
“Gods, it looks okay…but did I hurt you?” the beast insisted. “I didn’t mean…”  
“I’m perfectly fine, Gladio” Ignis stated, looking down at himself. “There’s no need to panic. You didn’t hurt me.”  
“Okay…” the beast still looked a bit scared. His ears were a simple way of reading his feelings, and right now, going down, Ignis read it as the beast saddening or shying away. Which one, he had no idea.

Ignis did not really understand; it had been an irrelevant action, Gladio had simply caught him, he saw no reason for the beast to make such a big deal out of it and panic. It took Ignis a moment, but he soon understood why Gladio insisted on asking if he had hurt Ignis; it was the claws of his hand. They were not as terrifying as Ignis remembered to first have thought back in his captivity at the tower, but they were not short nails either. With a bit of thinking, Ignis assumed that Gladio had panicked not just senselessly, but because he feared that the claws had, by accident, harmed the man.  
“So, what were you saying?” Gladio asked after clearing his throat, still acting a bit awkward but looking like trying to regain the previous mood of calm.  
His panic had been sincere. It was silly and awkward, but sincere. Gladio _had_ really feared to have accidentally harmed him. He did get a firm grip of Ignis, basically hugged him to catch him, and his claws _had_ touched Ignis, so the beast had reasons to believe he could accidentally hurt him.  
“I said” Ignis said trying not to mix up his thoughts with his words, “that I do wish to explore the gardens. I feel a bit like a child, but…I feel curious. Never before had I been in a garden this size. It’s a palace garden, after all.”  
But that the claws touched him did not necessarily mean it had hurt. It was natural. Ignis had not even paid attention to that until only now that he was analyzing Gladio’s sudden panic.  
Panic because he thought he had hurt Ignis.  
And did not want to.

_He doesn’t want to hurt me._

“Yeah, well…” Gladio was saying, a hand going to the back of his neck as he spoke. “It’s…in ruins. All a chaos and stuff. But if you want, there’s no troubles in exploring it, I guess. You just gotta be careful in some places.”  
“Like where?” Ignis asked, sincerely curious and wanting to take precautions.  
“Hm, well, you don’t want to walk in the one place where this poisonous plant started growing some years ago” Gladio listed. “At least not with bare hands. But I think you always wear gloves so that’s fine, but you don’t want to go there. And you don’t want to go to the one place where this statue broke into a sharp shape, because it’s covered in plants and you may not see it and you’ll hurt yourself. And you don’t want to go to the one place where there’s this big ass hole that you can’t see due to the grass. I mean a big-ass hole, not a big asshole, oh my gods, I’m sorry.”  
“Well…” Ignis stopped only for a second for a chuckle and contained laughter, “it does sound like the garden may be some troubles” Ignis said as he turned around again and started retaking his way to the castle, slowly. Gladio followed nearby, watching down on his steps to make sure his claw would not get stuck anywhere else. “I may as well need a guide.”

“I could show you around” Gladio offered casually, and Ignis softly stopped to turn around and look at him like a kid who heard someone else speak in a language they’re not familiar with. Gladio stopped as well, at first not catching it. But then, he tensed and started panicking again. “I mean…I could ask Nyx to show you around. You seem pretty fond of him, and he knows the gardens pretty well, and that way I don’t show you around” at those last words, Ignis furrowed lightly the eyebrows, as if more confused than before. Gladio, again, showed reaction and tensed slightly more. “I mean, not that I don’t want to show you. Not that I want to, either. I mean, not particularly. I just thought maybe you’d like somebody else to do that instead of…and…yeah.”  
“I understand” Ignis said and could not help a tiny smile that had nothing to do with mockery and was all out of his thoughts. “Still, I have the rest of the evening free, so why not explore the gardens right now?”  
“Right n-…” Gladio said in a murmur, staring at the man with a blank expression. “You mean…well, I can go get Nyx or…”

Ignis gently shook the head at him.  
“I’m fine if it’s you” Ignis said to him, serious expression back on his face, but remaining soft. “I don’t mean to tire the furniture. They seem to have more troubles walking than you, and you know the gardens. So why not?”  
“…a-are you sure, I could…” Gladio started saying, looking away again. “Aren’t you…won’t you be…uncomfortable?”  
“I see no reasons to that” Ignis said almost casually, and the look on his face had it very clear to Gladio that the man was not trying to be kind; he was literally not understanding what the big deal was. His expression was a bit harsher than Gladio could have expected, but then again, this was his every day Ignis. The beast looked at him still a bit lost, and then stared away, unexpectedly feeling shyness quickly build itself up inside him. Hence, the beast seemed to hesitate for some moments. 

While he thought about it, Ignis looked down at the beast’s shoulder.  
“Look at yourself” the man said out of nowhere, interrupting Gladio’s thoughts and making the beast look down at him when, suddenly, Ignis took a step closer to him. “You still have grass on your clothes.”  
The man moved an arm up.  
And Ignis touched him.

It was soft and quick, but it _was._ Ignis reached close to him and move a hand up, and use it to brush at Gladio’s shoulder, cleaning it from the dirt and grass. Gladio noticeably tensed, but Ignis seemed to either not be aware or ignore it, and continued to pat at Gladio’s shoulder to a side, so all the grass could fall off. Ignis seemed very focused in his task and Gladio could barely look at him. He had forgotten how to breathe and he only stood there, frozen and tense. When Ignis’ hand first landed on him, it was like a bolt had struck him inside. The hand was not going away, and it was terrible; it was like being continuously struck by more and more bolts one right after the other without even half a second in between to take a rest. Gladio fought with all his might not to shiver, but a trembling gasp still escaped him, subtle and apparently unimportant to Ignis. It lasted mere seconds. Less than twenty. Less than fifteen. Maybe even less than ten. But every single second of them had made Gladio tense and feel like he was being electrocuted both inside and outside.

It was the first time Ignis deliberately touched him. He was wearing his gloves, and it was only a small part of his hand what brushed onto Gladio’s clothes instead of his actual body…but it was not the contact itself. It was not the physicality of it.  
It was that Ignis had _chosen_ to touch him.  
All the other times when they had come in physical contact, all the times had been an accident. When Ignis stumbled at the stairs of the tower and he held onto Gladio’s paw for support, when they had fought with each other, and even only some moments prior to this, when Gladio had almost made him fall and they had held each other for support. It all had been an accident and hence it had caused nothing in Gladio. And the time when Ignis sat at a living room to heal his wounds, he kept it the less physical that he could. Touching Gladio with the cloth instead of his hand, making sure to touch him as little as possible while bandaging, and, whenever his hands were close to the beast, they trembled so much it was impossible to not notice.

But this time…but right then and there, the tiny and pathetically casual action of brushing grass off his clothes, it was not an accident, and he was not trembling.  
Ignis had chosen to do it.  
_Ignis had chosen to touch him._  
And did not fear.

As soon as he was done, the man simply stepped back again with a small ‘There’, not looking any altered. Not shy, not angry, not kind and not rude. Nothing. Because this had been such a casual, a tiny, such an unimportant and every-day gesture that…he was fully oblivious and unaware of all that it hid behind. At least for Gladio.  
The beast looked at him with mouth slightly opened and not blinking, even though his eyes had not widened. Ignis blinked once at him as if waiting for Gladio to say something, but the beast could not react. He looked at Ignis for some more moments again, and the man only offered the furrow of eyebrows and a tiny and slightly uncomfortable smile, not understanding but decided to not question either. Gladio felt his lower lip trembling lightly and tried to force himself to talk, but he could not.  
“…so…” Ignis tried breaking the sudden silence, awkward for him. He looked away for a moment. “Could you show me around the gardens, please?”

Gladio still stayed frozen in front of him. He shook the head in short and quick movements, mouth still opening in an attempt to say something, and it took him some seconds before looking away.  
“Uhm…yeah” Gladio managed to say. He moved a fist up to hide his mouth when he cleared his throat, and he looked away for the millionth time. “We could…” he paused yet again, and Ignis started worrying a bit because something had clearly upset the beast in a way he could not name. He looked…in some sort of shock. Still, Gladio continued, clearly trying to go back to a normal state. “We could…start this way. Are you going to memorize everything, though?”  
“I’m pretty positive I’ll remember any spot where there’s a potential danger” Ignis said and started walking the way that Gladio had offered, and the beast caught up to walk at his side, if only one or two steps behind.  
“Okay…then uhm…let’s go” Gladio said and both started walking again. 

And so, Gladio started showing him around the gardens of the palace.  
There were, indeed, some places that was preferable to avoid; the hole in the ground that one would not notice due to the overgrown grass, a root that arched and in which one could easily get a foot stuck, the poisonous plant, some place where the plants were infested with plague, and some other places.  
As they went around and as Ignis mentally listed the places that it was best to avoid, he found his own mind digressing and thinking in other things.  
The way Gladio had asked him if he had hurt him reminded him of that first time when they went out hunting. Even back then, only starting to stop arguing, Gladio had softened and had tried to check Ignis’ skin after having gripped it, asking the same thing. Ignis had not noticed and it had been a rude gesture back then, but now that the action repeated itself with greater impact, he had started to notice; Gladio was more than just serious when he had said he meant to harm to him, in any way. He sincerely worried, even since before Ignis had noticed.

Both the man and the beast continued their stroll through the gardens, side by side. Pretty much in ruins, there were paths that were mostly inaccessible, and some other places were not as enjoyable. Luna and Iris watched from a window of the third floor, and Luna had said something about it being ‘super romantic’, but it most certainly was anything but that; Ignis constantly tugged at his clothes when they got stuck in a wild root or branch, he stumbled and had to avoid many plants, Gladio tried putting plants apart to open a path and failing…it was not a happy stroll through the gardens watching flowers and laughing. It was mostly awkward.  
But there _was_ some flower staring.  
Ignis and Gladio did not speak much about other matters but the garden, their current interest. Gladio was who spoke the most, pointing at Ignis the places that was best to avoid, but as the tour through the gardens carried on, the beast had let himself go in some way, and he had started to speak more than usual.

Ignis could not help but notice. As time went, Gladio had started to not only point the places best to avoid, but had also started to point at places that ‘used to be beautiful years ago’. And as more time went, Ignis found the beast starting to speak not only about the avoidable places and the once-beautiful ones, but also starting to share small stories, give away comments, name plants and talk stuff. There was always excitement in the beast’s voice, and there was a point in which Gladiolus started smiling; from then on, the smile never faded, and sometimes it did but widen. _’And here there used to be some hyacinth flowers, they were this big and so colorful, you have no idea’_ , _Ah, over there, you see that? Believe it or not, there’s a kiosk under all those plants. It used to be so beautiful’_ , _’In this one spot, sometimes, the wind blows just on point; not too strong, not too weak. Gods, I love this one spot’_. Sometimes, Gladiolus even laughed to himself.

There was a point in which he almost seemed to forget Ignis was there, and all that he spoke almost sounded as if told to the wind or to someone else. Sometimes, his comments made Ignis smile as well and feel a bit moved inside. Some others made Ignis overthink and feel strange inside, like when Gladio happily reached some spot like an eager kid, excited to show Ignis, and said _’I used to come to this one spot with…well, I used to come and sit and just enjoy of the shadow of that one tree, because the wind is so good here, and the sound of the leaves always put me to nap, and Iris usually had to come and wake me and sometimes brought cookies and…_ ’ a little laugh, distracted. _It was so good. The old days._  
The old days. Ignis wondered what he meant with that. He guessed Gladio was talking about the time before the curse, when there were no mental troubles for him. But then he had mentioned Iris, and, so far Ignis understood, Iris, like the other furniture, had not existed _until_ the curse. It was confusing. But he questioned nothing.

As Gladio continued to show him around, it was the growth of the awkward that turned into this excitement and great mood.  
The tour started turning into a host showing his guest, to a happy creature sharing his happiness with its companion.  
_Isn’t that some summary for friendship? Does that mean we are…?_  
Ignis snorted subtly and closed the eyes to ignore his own thoughts, and continued following the beast.  
Most of the tour around was spent with Gladio talking almost non-stop about the gardens, all his favorite spots, all the places he liked, what it used to be, what he used to do, and he also spoke about flowers whenever they found some. Ignis, to be sincere, was amazed with the beast’s knowledge on flowers; not only did Gladio know the name of every one they found, he also seemed sincerely happy and excited about them. Sometimes the beast stopped just to point out about a flower, name it, tell Ignis something curious about it, or just tell him something like the best time in the year to grow them.  
“And…oh, here are the irises” Gladio said while going through a path, Ignis following close and smiling. “Along some gladioli.”  
“Oh, right” Ignis said as if remembering something. “You’re named after a flower. I had forgotten there were flowers called gladiolus.”  
“I prefer the irises” Gladio said with a happy smile, looking at the flowers. Ignis paid attention as well, looking at the tall flowers, scattered around and neglected, and only a few survivors left, but standing proud and colorful. “Summer is preferable for both irises and gladioli. Did you know they tend to grow together?”

“Didn’t know that” Ignis admitted, smiling. The beast’s excitement was very easily contagious, and Ignis had been in a very good mood along most of the tour thanks to that. He smiled softly at Gladio instead of staring at the flowers. The beast had the attention full on them, smiling like a child. The man still preferred to look at him for some moments. _What exactly are you, Gladio?_ The man tried to listen to him, but truth is that half of his mind was busy in his thoughts; it was a bit odd finding Gladiolus so excited and with such a great knowledge of something like flowers. It was another detail that erased more of his ‘scary points’ away. If Gladio had shown himself to be as harmless and even shy at times, this entire day had only confirmed it and had boosted his ‘Not Scary’ status to the skies for Ignis. 

For a moment, he remembered about his dad. He, too, liked flowers. Maybe not with this much excitement, but he liked flowers as well. A bit amused at Gladio’s love for irises and other flowers, Ignis could not help but widen the smile and wonder what he would tell his dad had he the chance to write him a letter, and he imagined it.

_Dear father,_  
_I hope you’re okay. Please do not stress about me; know that I am more than safe and healthy. I eat good, I exercise daily, and I have access to an infinite amount of books. You would love the library as much as I do._

Gladio continued talking to him about flowers. Ignis looked at either him or the plants. He saw the beast taking some of the flowers but not cutting them, speaking something about keeping them in pots, about some history on flowers, and to Ignis’ surprise he started speaking of which flowers combined better with which others for a bouquet.  
_Worry not about the beast, either. You wouldn’t believe it, dad; you saw him angry, but now that I’ve spent these months with him, I’ve found he really isn’t aggressive. He’s not dangerous. He’s kind and has treated me properly. He lets me cook my own food, wander around freely, even in the gardens, and he has been careful to not make me uncomfortable. And he’s been very, very careful to not hurt me, even by accident. It took me a while to realize. It took me a while to see it. I let his looks confuse me and I thought he was a dangerous, carnivorous and wild creature…_  
_But he’s not. He’s kind. Almost sweet. And so harmless…_

Ignis followed Gladio through some more paths into the garden, and they stopped at some point where Gladio was pointing at him some place with another sort of flowers that, again, the beast started talking about. They spent a while like that, standing still and just talking, when a butterfly appeared and stood at Gladio’s right horn. Ignis watched that and tried to contain it, but he found himself putting a hand up when he failed and a small, low laugh escaped him. The beast stopped his conversation to ask him what he was laughing at, and there was a tiny and childish argument before Ignis pointed the reason at him.  
_I think he’s also a bit scared, but I don’t know what about. So please do not worry, father, for he has taken a good care of me. And you won’t believe it, but…today, I’ve spent all day with him, by accident, and we even talked and laughed together. It was enjoyable. I never would have ever imagined I would say this even as a joke, but…_  
Gladio seemed to freak out a bit at the presence of the butterfly, or better said, he seemed to freak out when he accidentally scared it, and trying to turn to look at his own horn, Gladio looked a bit silly and stumbled upon himself again while trying to see where the butterfly went to. The gesture, as silly, cause Ignis to continue laughing, staring away.  
_I enjoyed greatly of his company._

It was an hour or so later that both started heading back to the inside of the castle. Ignis, however, asked if he could stay outside a little longer to go visit Nox, at which the beast showed no complaint, and he left to the inside while Ignis rounded the castle to go to the small stable.  
_The only thing I’m scared about is how much I enjoyed being with him, because I was not expecting to ever like his presence. And here I am, feeling like I want to ask him more things. You should hear him talk about flowers. I had never heard someone as passionate on something else before. Flowers, the beast. Could you believe it? It was strange._  
_Oddly adorable._  
Once with his horse, he decided to spend the while just brushing her hair and just to sit nearby her, lost in thoughts. He had had a good day, and had discovered many things that needed a little reflection on them. He liked to walk Nox around the perimeter of the castle for a while, taking his time and petting her at times when necessary. For once, he was not talking with her, for his thoughts were stronger than his full consciousness. Ignis was not sure if he had to hate it or love it, but he felt so calm it was almost ridiculous. Pacing around with Nox, the man felt almost free for a moment. That, or he simply did not mind being a prisoner.  
It was not like he was having a bad time in the castle, after all. Not anymore.

_Dear father,_  
_Do not fear about him. I don’t. He treats me kind and good. And I have started to enjoy of his presence. I almost feel like he is…well, I don’t know if I would call him a friend, or if you would believe that, but I do know, and I want you to know,_

_he’s most definitely not a foe._


	18. Refrain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deep apologies for the long wait!
> 
> I was in an awful writer's block, that I think is noticeable here... *sigh*
> 
> Tbh I'm not confident on this one, but I didn't want to keep you waiting for /longer/ as I re-did the entire thing.
> 
> I do, however, am particularly excited on the next two chapters, so I hope you stick by until then! :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, nonetheless, and I apologize again.

The rest of the day continued a little awkwardly. 

Both man and beast spent it avoiding each other, but not like in a beginning. When Ignis was first taken out of his tower captivity and allowed to wander about as he pleased on the inside of the castle, both him and Gladiolus avoided each other on purpose for obvious reasons; both were terrified of the other (each on his own way), and both were majorly angered towards the other, not to say it was plain uncomfortable. An intruder dealing with a stranger. Two strangers that almost kill each other the first time they met, forced to live together. There were more than enough reasons to turn around and walk the other way as soon as they spotted each other.

But that evening, after their day outside hunting and their afternoon exploring the gardens, in an odd atmosphere of comfort that had been far too noticeable to go unseen or to be easily brushed off, and after they parted ways once the tour was over, they had troubles on going back to conversating. And not because they had nothing to talk about; it was some sort of…fear, on both sides. Fear to see that, if they _tried_ , maybe conversation _could_ blossom. Fear of speaking one word and see it turn into a full conversation that who knew how much could last. Fear of going back to that friendly atmosphere. Because it was not meant to be that way.  
Gladio was an animal. A beast. All fur and fangs and horns.  
Ignis was a human. A man, with delicate but manly features, skilled fingers, this elegant posture, hair only on the head, those stupidly stunning androgynous eyebrows, and the eyes-  
_Those goddamn green eyes._

Even if it had been without the race distinction, the situation itself could not allow…whatever was blossoming to blossom. Gladiolus was keeping him jailed. Ignis was his prisoner. They could _not_ be comfortable in the presence of the other, they were not supposed to laugh together, Gladiolus was not supposed to be talking with him about flowers and Ignis could _not_ think of that as ‘oddly adorable’ and enjoy of it. They were not meant to be…that. Whatever they were, it was not supposed to be. They _had_ to hate each other, suspect of one another, avoid each other, they were supposed to have a rough treatment filled of exchange of rude comments and fighting. Ignis was supposed to be spitting on him, not staring with curiosity and a smile. Gladiolus was supposed to drag him around by the hair and throw him against rocks, not hugging him by reflex so he wouldn’t fall and panicking on whether he hurt him or not.  
They were supposed to hate each other, not…  
Whatever they…whatever it…  
Not _this_.

But what was _this?_

After realizing how the situation was between them, Ignis had troubles making eye contact for the rest of the night. He avoided Gladiolus in embarrassment and fear, the kind of fear previously described, where it was not about his claws or looks or anything negative, but rather fear of continuing to feed…that thing between them that threatened on growing as friendship. He was scared that, if he interacted again with Gladiolus, he would discover he was enjoying of it, simply because he was not supposed to enjoy of that. Let alone _wish_ to interact with him again.  
He was so busy avoiding him in embarrassment to notice the beast was avoiding him as well.  
And for the exact same situation.

Gladiolus too was scared of the same thing; he was aware that things were not meant to happen or be the way that they were happening, and he too was scared of feeding it more. ‘I’ll be careful’ he had promised the furniture friends once. But he spoke about falling in romantic feelings for the man…that did not mean he could not try to be his friend, right?  
Friend. Gladio mentally and physically slapped himself at the thought.  
_As if someone like_ him _would like to be friends with a hideous thing like_ me…  
Then not a friend, but maybe…a friendly acquaintance. That was fine, right? He did have Ignis prisoner, trapped and forced to live there, but…he meant no harm. He really meant no harm to the man. And, besides, Ignis was not a bad person. He was skilled in so many things, and so handsome, and with such a pretty voice, and he was so kind under those layers of coldness and sarcasm that, Gladio started theorizing, maybe were only outside layers that covered some…fear.

Luna noticed the way both avoided each other that evening and night; the way they kept the ear up and panicked if they heard the other close, left what they were doing, and went somewhere else completely flustered. Luna had been sighing all the time and excitedly leaning against her friends talking about ‘oh how sweet’ everything was. Noctis thought it was hilarious and stupid, Prompto thought it was awkward and funny, and Iris simply thought it was odd but cute. 

Despite the flustered avoiding of each other, there was still dinner. It would have had been too obvious if any of them ran away now that they had started to have dinner together every night, so they had no option but to sit together again. A bit awkward at first, it soon turned into what they had gotten used to in their dinner for two; Ignis constantly watching him and nagging him whenever he started losing control, and Gladio constantly rolling the eyes and snorting at him. The awkward air was soon, very soon turned back to their childish arguing at the table, with Ignis’ desperate attempts of taming the beast at least while having dinner, and Gladio being annoyed by him in a childish way.

The only difference that returned them to the flustered reaction was when they bid goodnight.  
Ignis had been much kinder those previous days, not only saying ‘Goodnight’, but also sometimes adding something like ‘Sleep well’. That night, not only did he bid goodnight with his kind comment afterwards. He added even more.

“Goodnight, Gladiolus” Ignis had said with a slightly shy but very sincere smile. “Sleep well. I was…” he paused to clear his throat. “I wanted to thank you for today. It was not in the plans, neither the hunt nor the stroll…the exploration through the gardens” Ignis looked up at him with a faint, very faint shade of red behind the cheeks. Gladio had thought he was imagining, but he glanced, before panicking and thinking Ignis would notice him staring, so his eyes shot up back to the man’s eyes. Ignis kept that embarrassed but sincere smile. “Yet, as unexpected as it was…I enjoyed greatly of our day. Of the day. The day we had.”  
And, once done with his previous words, Ignis put a hand behind himself, the other ghosting his own tummy, and he bent down.  
He was bowing. Like a gentleman before a dance. Like an attendant in front of the king. Like a butler before his Lord.  
Ignis bowed for him.

“Thank you, Gladio” he said while keeping the bow, before returning up to stand normally again. “Goodnight.”

The fact that he had done that included the subconscious realization that he had let go of his pride for once, and the conscious realization that he had enjoyed his time with Gladio, so it triggered both of them back to the flustered, awkward reaction that made both want to avoid the other. As they did, with a last awkward goodnight, and parting ways without looking back. Gladio walked fast to his room almost as if fearing a monster was right behind him to eat him, and when he finally made it to his room and once he had calmed, he let himself fall on his bed to groan into the pillow.  
Shit. He forgot to tell Ignis he had enjoyed of their day too…

\--

The next day, after spending a while looking around for him, Iris found Gladio in a room, sat at a window on the second floor, looking at the outside. The tea pot walked in in silence, even though she knew Gladio had noticed her, what with the noise of opening the door and her characteristic click as she hopped around. With little troubles thanks to all those years of practice, Iris climbed up on the sofa that was the inner windowsill, where the Shield was sat, and looked at the outside as well.  
Ah, of course. Ignis.

The man was outside, in the gardens. It was the first thing that caught the attention, so it was pretty obvious that that was what Gladio was looking at. The man looked at the mess of overgrown plants; he had the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and he held a pair of garden scissors, and nearby him stood two shovels and two other scissors, all four animated unlike the ones he held in hands. He seemed to be in deep thoughts as he stared around at the plants and garden in front of him. A few moments later, he was looking down at the shovels and scissors and he pointed places, and even though the angle only allowed to notice when Ignis gave a profile view, he was speaking. It did not take a genius to notice he was giving orders to the gardeners-turned-in-tools, pointing places and commanding. Like Gladio said it many times before, and he had not been mistaken, Ignis was ‘bossing around’. 

“Oh” Iris started at the time she widened a smile. “So he’s now fixing the gardens, isn’t he?”  
“This man is so amusing” Gladio said with a laugh. “He can’t stay still. He walked in the castle, and started bossing around to clean all the rooms he finds. He goes outside, and he bosses there to clean that, too” the Shield gave a chuckle, not taking his eyes off the scene as Ignis continued to give orders and soon followed, entering the wilderness of the gardens himself. “Why can’t he just be thrown on a sofa reading or napping? What is his urgency on cleaning everything?”  
“I guess he doesn’t like dirty places” Iris said. “He seems kind of clean and elegant. Makes sense he wants to live in a clean place, don’t you think, Gladdy?”  
“Well, but it’s not like he’s staying here forever or anything” Gladio said, still smiling. “It’s just amusing. That he can’t stay still. Sees something broken, a hair out of place, he has to fix it” he laughed. “Wonder how he’ll do with the gardens.”

“If he works on them like he’s done on the rooms he’s cleaned” Iris started, serious, “it’s going to be a masterpiece of a garden. Have you seen the rooms he’s cleaned?”  
“Yeah” Gladio said, a bit lower now. “It’s…amazing, I have to admit. I didn’t remember all these places could shine out of clean.”  
“Well, let’s wait and see how he does with the gardens” the pot said happily. The Shield laughed and agreed.

Both returned to silence, watching Ignis working in the gardens, busy with cutting some of the overgrown grass, the most obvious first step. A few moments later, they saw as Nox, the man’s mare, appeared in sight range, calmly pacing towards Ignis. When Ignis saw her, he left his work and smiled, ignoring the plants to go to her. Once close, he hugged her by the bridge of the nose, above the muzzle but under the forehead, let go, and started petting her, talking with her. Smiling kindly all the time as he did. Watching that, Gladio sighed softly through the nose.  
“…you know, Iris” he called lowly and with a voice that the tea pot knew pretty well, and which made her turn to look at him, softly and carefully. Gladio kept the eyes on Ignis, even though they looked rather…sad. Iris looked at him with a little worry. “I’ve been thinking. Remember I told you I…wanted to make him happy?” he looked at her. She nodded. He stared at her a few more moments, before looking out through the window again. “I’ve been thinking…and I think…” he paused. “I think that I don’t even care if he’s happy. I think that, when I said that, what I meant was…” there was yet another pause. The Shield stared down and shook the head to himself. Iris kept the eyes on him; he looked troubled. Confused, very. “…I think that I’m doing that out of selfishness, Iris.”

“Now…how could that be selfish?” the tea pot asked with a kind smile, in almost a murmur, trying to lift the mood. “You want him to be happy. How is that selfish?”  
“I thought I wanted to make him happy, and I do, but it’s not because I care about him” Gladio started explaining. “It’s just that…” when there was another pause, the Shield turned to look at the window, and his eyes fixed on Ignis. The man was oblivious to the Amicitia staring, too busy with his mare and the garden. Gladio kept looking at him with that sad look that Iris did not enjoy of. “…It’s just that…when I make something that makes him happy…I feel that _I_ did something right. Something good” he said firmly but lowly. “I think that I don’t care about who he is, I just care on what he can make _me_ feel; wanting him to be happy sounds good, until you realize that the only reason I want that is because his reaction makes _me_ feel good” before the pot could said anything, the shield turned to look at her. “His _reaction_ , not his feelings. I think that I’m not doing any of this, the library and the gardens and all, for _him_. I think I’m making that for myself. Because I want to be praised, because I’m so…” _desperate for some, for any kind of love_ “…needy. Because I…” he stopped. The pause lingered, and he broke it by groaning and gripping at his hair. “I don’t even know. I just…think it’s that. That I’ve never done something for _him_. That it’s all just been for myself. And it’s…so messed up.”

Iris did not say anything for a moment. She focused on only looking at him, blinking every now and then. She looked again at Ignis; the man had finally left the mare, who calmly stood there, while he tried to figure what and where to cut the overgrown grass.  
“Well…” Iris started, sweetly, like always. “Even if it’s selfish, I don’t think that’s bad.”  
Gladio looked down at her. She, as well, turned to look at him, and gifted him a wide smile.  
“Even if it’s selfish, even if you don’t care about what he feels” she explained, “he feels it, anyway. And it’s all good feelings; relief, joy, calm…” she hopped a bit closer to him. “You may do it for yourself, but it’s affecting someone else in a very good way. And I think that’s very good, whatever the intentions.”

They spent a few moments in silence. Gladio, who was still looking at her, soon widened a smile, and a soft snort as if a hidden chuckle made it through his nose. He moved a hand up to use the paw to caress the top of Iris’ head.  
“You know how to make everything sound like something good, don’t you?” he asked but expected no answer other than the little giggle Iris gave in exchange. They turned to look again at Ignis. The man was still busy with the grass. The siblings stayed there a few more moments, watching him, until Gladio sighed. “Well, I guess I’ll just continue with that, then. See to myself through him.”  
“If that means you’ll make him happier with something” Iris smiled joyfully, “then please do! I think it’s pretty that you’re starting to befriend.”  
“No, Iris” Gladio said with the shake of the head as if having expected that all day but hating to hear it. “Not ‘friends’, I…” Gladio stopped there. He seemed rather nervous, Iris noted. “…I don’t think…he would ever consider me that…”  
“Hm…” Iris looked away, thoughtful. “…and, do you?”

There was yet another pause. The siblings stayed quiet for a moment. Gladio was still looking at the man. He closed the eyes and chuckled bittersweetly.  
“Crazy” Gladio murmured, “but I considered that for a second.”  
Iris smiled at him, even though it was as bittersweetly. It was good, always nice to make a friend or to see someone dear making a friend…but she was aware of their situation. Not their current one, but rather the _what if_. She needed not to be told to sense the sadness of it.  
“But I shouldn’t, Iris” he said, almost as if hearing her thoughts and planning to say them aloud. “If it’s harmful to be lonely, it’ll be worse if I fall in some sort of one-sided friendship” he looked down at her, eyes soft but sad. Like a man that has made his peace with a tragic end; not helping the sadness, but not mourning it either. “It’s like dying of hunger, and I’m allowed to have an apple. I can accept it or reject it. If I reject it, I die. If I accept it, the hunger will stop for a moment, and it’ll raise my hopes up to make me think I can survive, only to figure it did but prolong the state of agony, and then I’ll die anyway, except with all the hopes crushed. So if both things lead to the same thing, except one is less painful and quicker than the other…best to just ignore the apple, isn’t it?”  
“You make it sound so dark” Iris murmured. “Stop that, Gladdy.”

“Sorry, Moogle Nose” Gladio said and smiled at her. “But you know it’s true.”  
She knew that. Even if it was reciprocate, that would still be harmful to Gladio someday. Ignis, after all, was not staying in the castle for all eternity. One day he would have to leave, and he had close to no reasons to return. What was worse? To die in entire hopelessness, or to be given a small glimpse of hope, then be taken from it forever, and then die anyway?  
The gods damn the curse, and the gods damn the Wizard. Had he not ever interrupted in their lives, they would be living happily and calm.  
“For a moment, yesterday…” Gladio interrupted her thoughts. He was, again, looking through the window. “…it’s silly, but for a moment…only for a moment, I thought maybe he didn’t find me as bad” he turned to grin at her, as bittersweetly as before. “For a moment, showing him around the gardens…I thought he was _enjoying_ of it” once said that, the Shield chuckled. “And, for a moment…I thought he could…that he didn’t…that he didn’t find me to be…” _disgusting, hideous, so horrible_ “…scary.”

His smile widened a bit.  
“For a moment, I thought he could like me” Gladio murmured to her, in a voice that was not sad, but not happy either. It sounded…almost naïve. It sounded like a child telling his mother that he heard somewhere that ‘they say that we’re going to win the war’, when the mother knew the war was long lost and it was only matter of time before the enemy’s last strike. But Iris, like that mother, did not have the heart to tell him that. And she, like that mother, only smiled sweetly at him, unable to lie, but unable to tell the truth as well. It was, however, Gladio himself who put his own feet on the ground. “Iris, yesterday was so strange…it was almost intimate. He and I spent so much time together, and I started _enjoying_ of it…”

The tea pot stared down, without lowering the face, only the eyes. Gladio was looking through the window again. He looked as serious as his last words had sounded.  
“I have to stop, Iris” Gladio stated, firm but low. “Things between us are rushing. I had no idea it would take us only some days to suddenly be strolling through the gardens, laughing and talking” there was no smile in any moment of his words. He paused shortly. “Just a few weeks ago we were still arguing. I don’t know how…” he passed a hand through his hair, his words hesitating, and a sigh rearranging them. “It’s…like we only need a trigger. It’s like we have a lot of things to talk about, have always had, just hadn’t found out until just now…”  
“As in…it’s easy for you to…”  
“Connect with him” Gladio finished her words. He sounded worried. “I think. At least, I only needed to be asked one thing, and suddenly all evening went on with us talking and laughing. I didn’t mean to; I just wanted to show him around, I didn’t know we’d end up talking so much and…”

The Shield sighed in something that seemed to be either exasperation or exhaustion.  
“Iris, I need to stop that” he repeated. “It’s so easy to connect with him, but that shouldn’t be. We were enemies just two months ago, this can’t possibly happen so fast, it can’t go this quickly from here to there” he looked at her with worried, even slightly scared eyes. “Iris, I can’t allow that we become something personal. I don’t want- I _can’t_ be his friend. I need to stop all this, avoid an evening like yesterday from happening again.”  
“…so…how will you do that?” Iris asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Gladio did not reply at first, even though he did not seem to be thinking about any answer. Almost like he had it, but did not know how to word it. Or simply did not want to say it. The Shield took in a breath that he retained in his chest for a moment.  
“Just…putting distance between us” Gladio said and made it sound so agonizingly _simple_. He looked again at his sister. “I’ll just…continue to see if he needs anything, but I’ll…avoid any interaction that’s not needed, unlike yesterday” he added. “Keeping our roles as host and guest only, exclusively. And nothing more.”

Iris looked at him a few moments as if expecting him to add something else, or to change what he had already said. He did neither. Realizing that was a final statement, she looked away and nodded a bit hesitatingly. If Gladio thought that was the right thing, then that was the right thing, she guessed. Get away of Ignis so his company would not turn harmful in the inevitable end. 

Gladio had compared the situation to starve with two options. The Gladio of the metaphor had decided to reject the apple. But rejecting it was not putting it out of sight range.

How long could a starving, dying creature last before giving in to just accept the damn apple, even when aware of the consequences, only for the necessity of one moment of life before death?

\--

And so, the days went with both putting barriers for each other.

Avoiding any conversation that was not greetings, or Ignis’ nagging at dinner, or a goodnight. And even then, they were avoiding any eye contact, in a much noticeable way that still none called aloud. It was not the kind of avoiding from that evening post-garden walk, the kind that Luna had called ‘Sweet’; this was a terribly uncomfortable avoiding. It could be easily compared to a pair of friends, when one accidentally caused the other troubles with the school’s principal, but are forced to meet the next day…the sort of avoiding where things got awkward if they ended up in sight range of each other. The sort of avoiding where it’s noticeable something happened, one feels guilty and the other hurt, or where both feel both guilty and hurt for whatever reasons. 

It was almost like going back to the first weeks of Ignis’ captivity outside the tower, except in a worse way; at least, back then, the avoiding was justified on the hatred for each other, that was on maximum fuel all day, and they had reasons to stay away. They _wanted_ to stay distant from each other, they had needed of that barrier in between because was it not there, they both would have ended up scooping each other’s eyes out. Their feelings had created that separation, that line. Their feelings had _created it_ , period.  
And this avoiding was _forced_.  
This was not the “I don’t want to see him” sort of avoiding, this was “I don’t want to _want_ to see him”. 

The avoiding was not only on Gladio’s behalf; even though he was too busy forcing himself to stay away of the man to notice, Ignis was avoiding him as well. The furniture friends had not gotten any confession out of him, but it did not take a genius to see Ignis was in the same situation than Gladio, just his own way; there where Gladio was scared of befriending him because that would mean to make his death more painful when he would be taken from the last special thing he had in life, Ignis was scared, most probably, about befriending someone he was not meant to like. Whatever the fear was, it was reduced to the same thing: they were not avoiding each other out of hatred and disgust, but the opposite. Almost opposite.

After the first couple days in total silence, starting to start conversations had been some sort of challenge. The silence carried on; the ‘relationship-o-meter’ stayed calm on ‘Captor and captive’. But the mouths insisted on betraying their owners, and there was a couple of words exchanged again, during which the thermometer moved from that beginning to ‘Host and Guest’, reached the orange zone of ‘Acquaintances’, and, right before it could reach ‘Friends’, once the heart realized the trigger was about to be pulled, it called out for _’Danger, danger; step back, no access allowed, return to a safe area’_ , and both forced a stop right then and there, shutting their mouths, staring away, ending the conversation midways.

 

Dinner, as usual mostly quiet during these days of refrain, was more awkward than those before the evening at the gardens. The air, tense. Very different from air of hatred from the first month. The only exchanges were those times when Gladiolus let himself go too much and started eating like an animal, and Ignis chided him aloud until the beast would snort at him and frown, forcing himself to behave, then go back in silence.  
Ignis used his hand to eat only when Gladio had difficulties with his own food, at times picking with the fork. Quiet. Gladio ate, eyes distant from the man. Quiet.  
Fork against a dish. Munching. A claw against the table. Teeth chewing. The sounds of dinner between two mute creatures. 

The usual quartet of friends watched in total silence the odd scene from nearby. It was as bad as when beast and man tended to argue. All the progress, all gone. Or forced to stay away. Making the friends somehow want for them to go back to arguing; at least there was interaction during that, and not this refrain of emotions. 

It had been a couple days since the garden exploration, and little had they interrupted their new sort of silences. The silences, forced, that were an attempt from both sides to keep their distance and to stop their bond from growing.  
Little could they understand, however, that feelings are like lava in a volcano; once it wants to come out, it’s best for it to come out little by little instead of containing it, for refraining the lava does not make it disappear, but rather bottles it up until the point of no return.  
_Eruption._

Lady Luna watched calmly, waiting for the eruption. All the other furniture friends had constantly talked about the relationship between Gladiolus and Ignis, and the way it had come to a halt, and that apparently they would not talk to each other again for the rest of their lives. The Oracle worried very little; it was clear they were not back in a silence of hatred or disgust, but rather in a forced one, scared of interaction. Understanding this only caused her to smile and patiently wait for it, sure more than never before about the outcome it all would have.  
Feelings cannot disappear. One can ignore them, but that won’t make them leave.  
If anything…ignoring feelings will only make them more stubborn.  
They get what they want. 

That, the fourth day after the garden walk, Ignis glanced up at Gladiolus. The beast felt the stare, so he, very slowly not to scare the man, and a bit scared himself, glanced up as well. They shared some eye contact, in which neither showed a particular reaction, like they were not staring at each other but rather went unnoticed. Almost at the same time, both looked back down at their dishes.  
His heart was beating fast. His stomach tickled in a non-funny way. His head throbbed, almost like each beat said the same; ‘No’, ‘No’, ‘No’.  
It doesn’t matter who these sentences talk about; they fit either of them.  
There was a couple more of sounds of chewing and the fork or claws against the dishes, and thankfully the sounds of both minds stayed in their respective heads; if not, the dining room would have been a mess of voice noises.

Gladio swallowed his food while remembering about Lady Lunafreya’s words when he asked her for advice on how to make Ignis feel welcome and comfortable, how to make dinner less awkward. ‘Try a little conversation with him at the table’, she had said. That was out since Gladio had decided to put a limit to their relationship’s development. But dinner was awkward. He needed to do something. He did not want Ignis to be as uncomfortable as he looked, poking at the beans on his dish, the chest heaving subtly as if nervous.  
_He must be so disgusted because of me. I should do something so he’s a bit more comfortable. A little conversation…but I can’t. But I also can’t stay quiet, let the awkward grow. A little comment? Yes, a comment. It’s not conversation. It’s just a comment; lights the mood, but doesn’t trigger anything. A little comment, yes._

He looked up at Ignis and opened the mouth at the time he took in a little exhale, prepared to speak; the motion made the man look up at him. Gladio froze right then, smile on his open mouth, and watched Ignis look at him almost as if he had _hoped_ the beast spoke. But, instead of saying something, Gladio turned again at his dish and stuffed his mouth with food.  
_…right, but what do I say!? Wait, was he looking at me?_  
He looked back up at the man. Ignis kept the lips slightly pressed against each other, and he was staring away. Almost a little disappointed. Gladio guessed he must have had imagined that glance. No way in the entire world would Ignis look at him like that…  
_A little comment. I don’t want to offend him. What if he misunderstands whatever I say? I could ask him what he’s…no, nothing about books. I’ll be triggered. I could say something about…no, the gardens no, that’s what’s got us so tense. Think, Gladiolus, a little comment that will make him feel good but nothing too…much. What can you say, what can you say…?_

Gladio swallowed his food. His deer ears moved up as if he had heard a distant noise and he was putting attention, reaction of the idea hitting his brain. He could not help but widen a smile, before repeating the motion of quickly looking up at Ignis, exhale in. Ignis, again, reacted and looked up at him with the same look that the beast had sworn to have seen before.  
“This is…very good” Gladio said while forcing a grin at the man. “The food, I mean.”  
“Thank you…” Ignis responded and his smile widened. The beast’s ears moved up again as reaction to seeing Ignis’ expression; the little comment had caused the man’s expression to lighten in many ways; he looked content, and also…proud. The smile, and the sincere glance, and something about his expression told Gladio that that had not been only a ‘little comment’, not for Ignis; the man was receiving the compliment, and feeling _pride_ out of it. Gladio widened his smile at the expression he earned. “This recipe is a little complicated, I’m very grateful you think so.”

“Complicated?” Gladio asked, not thinking his answers, and simply letting his mouth respond as soon as it wanted. “You didn’t seem to have much troubles in there.”  
“I am subtle in my suffering, I guess” Ignis said with the small shrug of one shoulder. The furniture friends looked at him a little puzzled at the sudden darkness of the comment. Gladiolus, however, laughed. He had received it as a joke. The furniture looked at him with wide eyes, as if not understanding why he would laugh at somebody else’s misery…but, suddenly, they found Ignis smiled down at his food as well, looking shy and as if trying to hide such a big smile. Had that…been a joke? There was a small pause, before the man continued to push his beans around, still smiling. “So I thank your compliment; it lets me know I did a good job.”  
“You always do, Ignis.” 

Ignis’ expression softened again. He looked a little like when Gladio first gave him permission to be outside; happy. Not just content, not just calm. Happy.  
“Thank you…” Ignis said in almost a murmur, looking at the beast with that look of pride.  
Both continued to stare at each other in total silence. Ignis looked sincerely grateful and content. Even his posture had changed, and appeared much less tense. Gladio’s smile did but widen with every passing second that they kept eye contact. 

_Danger._

Both, suddenly, looked away, back again to their dishes. The tense silence returned; the lava was forced back inside. It took a few seconds before the sounds of fork on a dish and chewing returned, but all the noise was rather shy, almost as if every time something sounded it was aware of how much it could outstand in such a weird silence. They shared a glance for a moment before returning their attention again to the food. More and more moments went on like that, slowly and awkwardly dining.  
_There it is, a comment. That…was fine. But maybe I could make another one, just to make him feel comfortable._  
Gladio subtly shook the head to himself, gaze fixed on his food.  
_No, Gladiolus. You don’t want to make him feel comfortable. You’re just looking for an excuse to talk with him again._  
_Rein. It. In._

“…I have never asked, Gladiolus” surprisingly, it was Ignis who broke the silence. He did it the same way than the beast; in a clear motion that showed he had been holding it back as best as he could, but the string ended up breaking and made it inevitable for him to speak. Half a second before he started speaking, he lifted the head and turned to look at the beast, whose ears moved up again at the time he glanced back. It was the same gestures and expression like when Gladio had spoken first. “Are you allergic to anything? This recipe includes a lot of different ingredients, and only now am I thinking I never asked…I’ve never known if you’re allergic to anything, you know, it could be harmful and I am…”

Speaking too much.  
_Danger._

Ignis cleared his throat and stared down.  
“…I thought it was prudent to ask” he stated, cutting all his speaking from a few moments before and summing it all up in that lonely sentence. Gladio’s ears went down for a moment while he, too, looked away. The beast, however, soon looked back.  
“Not that I’m aware” Gladio replied. “I’ve got an iron stomach, you know.”  
“I have noticed, indeed” Ignis did not think and simply let his mouth go on, at the time a smile escaped from his grasp. “You can handle great quantities of food and you’ve never once backed away from any spice that I’ve used before.”  
“You need more than spices to bring down an Ami- an _amicable_ creature like me” Gladio said and Ignis decided to brush off the odd way he cut a word. The beast looked up at him with a slightly nervous smile, reaching a hand down to pat at his own belly. “You bring me anything, I’ll handle it.”  
“I don’t question your eating skills, but this is not about what you can handle, rather what your biology accepts” Ignis said. “I do not wish to accidentally murder you by using garlic on a stew.”

Gladio opened the mouth to reply with a joke. Oh, the quantity of drama he could use to joke with that last comment. All the vampire jokes he had.  
_Danger. Step back._  
_No jokes._  
“Eh, don’t worry ‘bout that” the beast said while looking slightly away for a moment. “I think I’ve eaten of pretty much everything, so” he looked back at Ignis with a smirk and shrugged a shoulder. “If I’m allergic to anything, we’ll find out at the same time, don’t worry.”  
Ignis laughed.  
It was short, more like a mixture between a chuckle and a snort, but the smile had widened and the man had moved a hand up as if completely embarrassed by such a tiny exhale.  
_Danger. Forbidden area ahead. Step back._

Ignis cleared his throat and kept the eyes down, letting out a quiet ‘excuse me’. The beast nodded and looked away somewhere else in the room, not stopping a slow but rather long sigh from coming out of his mouth.  
The gods damn, why was it so hard to _not_ talk?  
It did not make sense. Only a few weeks ago all that they did was but to argue, and now, for once, they needed to _force the silence_. In which moment did their entrails suddenly have so desperately much to talk about? 

Dinner carried on again. It was when Gladio started retaking his eating that he noticed his dish was still half-full despite all the time they had already spent there.  
_I’m eating slowly…_  
_Is that on purpose? Am I trying to make dinner last longer, because it’s the last time we see each other until the next day?_  
_Gods, what am I? A schoolgirl with a crush? Of course you’re not doing that, Gladio, you’re just…you just want…_  
_…what do I want from him?_

Slowly and a bit scared to be caught staring, the beast slowly and subtly glanced up from his dish to look for Ignis, without moving anything but the eyes. The man, for what the corner of his eyes suggested, was not looking his way.  
_And his dish is still half-full, too…_

For a moment, Gladio interpreted that as a sign that Ignis, like him, was putting the moment of biding goodnight off, trying to postpone it for a little longer. Almost as soon as the thought hit him, Gladio’s heart skipped a beat and he received two different mental slaps from himself; one, that yelled at him that he was not looking for any excuse, and the other, that yelled at him that that was ridiculous, that, if anything, Ignis would only eat as fast as he could to get out of there as soon as he could. That Ignis had…that he had finally ( _gods, finally…_ ) stopped staring at him with disgust and that he did not look as uncomfortable as before was not the same than liking or enjoying of dinner. Even if Ignis had no reason to want to run away of there, he had no reasons to _want_ to stay, either…

The man, subtly and slowly, looked up at the beast without moving but the eyes. He found Gladio was intensely staring at the man’s dish, still with food on it.  
_Has he noticed?_  
_Noticed what? Not like I have anything to hide, or like I’m doing any particular something. I’m just eating. Slowly. A bit too slowly._  
_…but, so what? I’m just…not hungry. That’s all._

Ignis, a bit embarrassed at his own thoughts (and the ones he did not have), looked away and frowned lightly. His fingers fidgeted a bit with the fork and he took in a subtle breath through the nose, trying to keep his composure intact.  
Gladio, on his side, had stopped his staring at Ignis’ dish, and let his claws drum a bit on the table.  
Back to the forced silence.  
The quartet of friends still watched from their distance, most of them simply puzzled. Even Iris, who was aware of what the problem was (at least on Gladio’s behalf), could understand but she still looked at them with some confusion; her puzzle was solved, but it was like one of the pieces did not even belong there. Not that she did not find where it fit, it was that it was not even part of the puzzle.  
Lady Lunafreya, on her side, watched with a smile, calm, understanding even more than either beast or man at the table, and keeping it all to herself. 

Beast and man still poked their food, almost like it was an option and not a necessity. Almost as if not wanting to eat. Whether it was a conscious realization or not, both eventually and with a lot of hesitation across many minutes, ended up glancing at each other, not in the usual way of wanting to turn when the other would not be looking…precisely, the other way around. Afraid to turn unless the other was doing the same. It was awkward and slow, but their eyes, little by little, ended up meeting again, in what felt almost an accomplice way. As if both had pulled a prank on somebody else and were giving each other the look of recognition. And, almost as if that scenario was real, the eye contact caused them to widen a smile that could have almost but not really hidden a laugh. There was it; the conversation. What about? None knew. But it felt _there_ , about to happen.

_Danger. Dange-_

“This dish kinda reminds me of another one, but I can’t put my finger on what” Gladio said and, as soon as he spoke, both turned fully to face each other instead of offering only a three quarter of a view (that had been enough for the accomplice stare), smiles still present. For some reason, every time either of them started a conversation, the tension broke. The string tightening around their throats went loose. It was…relieving. “Is this dish famous or something?”  
“Well, I’m not sure if it’s famous” Ignis replied, looking at Gladio almost as if thankful for having started conversation. “I ignore where you could have seen it. Personally, I saw the original version in a book, but I made my variation of it.”  
“Oh, you _created_ this?” Gladio could not stop himself from asking, eyes widening a bit like an excited child. “I knew you cooked, but not that you made your own recipes. Do you?”  
Whatever Gladiolus had touched, it made Ignis turn to shyness.  
Ignis. _Shy_.  
_In front of me._

“Yes, it’s something most people don’t…”  
_Danger_.  
“…I mean” Ignis cleared his throat, head slightly down and eyes shying away for a moment, “yes, I do. Sometimes.”  
“All this time I’ve been eating original creations, and I’ve had no idea” Gladio said with a bright smile, and he, not watching, reached for the fork that tended to rest at a side for those times Ignis had tried to instruct him into using utensils (with no success so far), and started poking at his food, eyes and attention full on Ignis. “That’s pretty amazing.”  
_Danger, danger, danger._

“Not all that you’ve eaten is an original creation” Ignis ignored the warning of his brain, picking at his food as well without paying attention. “Only a couple of times. Of course, if we don’t count the first weeks, when I had to improvise due to how scarce the variation of ingredients was.”  
“So you mean I’ve tried recipes before anybody else?” Gladio asked him, bringing the fork up and taking a mouthful of what he carried with it. “Hah. All Insomnia should be jealous.”  
_Red alert._  
“I will take that as a compliment” Ignis said with a smile, shoulders moving slightly up. He looked as if though he had way too many things to say, but found himself too reserved (word that he used not to use ‘shy’) to open up. He could contain the words, but nobody can hide excitement when it’s so big. “Even though it’s not that much of a difficult thing. Anyone that follows a recipe book can do it.”

“Not anyone can do that, you know, you’re just bragging” Gladio told him pointing at him with the fork for a moment, and the man smiled, eyes on the beast. Gladio chewed, mouth closed, and returned the smile.  
_Joke received; misunderstanding, not happened. Dangerous zone._

“Perhaps you just have not found the appropriate book” Ignis told him, still smiling. “Oric’s Culinary Chronicles are well detailed and with clear instructions. I’m sure anyone can follow any of those books.”  
_Step back. There is enough time to return to a safe zone._  
“Oric’s Culinary Chronicles?” Gladio said after swallowing the mouthful he had been chewing, eyes going up as he frowned. A few moments into thinking, he looked back at Ignis, mostly blank. “Oh, right. There’s a couple of those in the library.”  
_Warning; trigger delicate._  
“There are Oric’s recipe books in the library?” Ignis asked very noticeably interested. Even though the smile was gone, the excitement sparkled in his eyes. “How many?”  
_Locked, loaded._  
“Fourteen, I think.”  
_Trigger, pulled._

“Fourteen!” Ignis almost exclaimed aloud, and he leaned a bit closer on the table as if trying to delete a few of the inches that separated him from Gladiolus, what with being four seats away. “That’s the entire collection! I thought three of them were entirely forgotten and erased from history!”  
“Well, there you go, Kitchen Prince” Gladio said with a smile as he took another bite from the food of his fork. For once, the nickname did not sound like mockery. Ignis did not even pay attention to it, like it was but a friendly name. “You’ve got something to entertain yourself for a while.”  
“In which section can I find them?” Ignis asked him, looking a bit too into it. “I am pretty sure I must have gone through the entire library at least once, and while it was but a fleeting, overall look into the titles, I’m sure I would have spotted that collection. How did I miss them? Are they in one of the shelves I have no access to?”  
“Woah, calm down, Little Chef” Gladio said with a tiny laugh. “If you want I can pick them out of the shelves next time I go there, or I could show you where they are.”  
“That would be fantastic” by this point, any warning coming from any of their brains was not only ignored, but also past beyond forgotten. “I only hope we count with the required ingredients so I can try any of the new recipes I’ll find there.”  
“I’ll make sure we get them if we don’t have them yet” Gladio stated. “No way am I not trying that stuff.”

“I promise nothing, Gladio” Ignis said with a proud smile. “It would be first time I would try following those recipes, so it will be inexpert job. I’m uncertain of the outcome of the first go.”  
“Eh, I’ll taste test for you, then” Gladio promised with a tiny wink he did not think about. Ignis did not pay any major attention to it.  
“Taste test, what a particular choice of words.”  
“If you say that many times in a row, it starts sounding stupid.”  
“Nice try, Gladiolus, but I am not going to try that.”  
“What? It wasn’t a dare.”  
“It sounded like one.”  
“Scared of sounding like a stuttering idiot?”  
“Excuse me?”

And the conversation carried on with almost no pauses in between.  
Lady Lunafreya smiled.  
Eruption, indeed. 

 

Recipes, ingredients, evenings of hunting, a playful argument, ten minutes of a rather unimportant, irrelevant conversation. A normal conversation at dinner. Normal, of course, for a pair of friends.  
The furniture looked at the scene still a little puzzled, but happier this time. Prompto seemed to be particularly happy at the interaction between beast and man, and Iris a little more puzzled than before, but not helping a little smile. Gladio had said it would be healthier to put distance between him and Ignis, sure, but…talking, smiling, and having a comfortable while…that did not look any harmful to Iris.  
The conversation came to a stop naturally, after a joke for which there was no particular response. The laughter came from both sides, and faded eventually. 

It was after it that Ignis noticed his dish was empty. Had been for a minute or two by now. He looked at it, and thought that he should pick it and leave it at the sink, like always. And he suddenly felt a little…disappointed. Dinner had gone too fast. At least the second half of it.  
_Fine. That’s perfect. That way I can finally get up from here and leave and not see him anymore._  
Ignis stayed sat. He looked at his dish and blinked at it, with an expression that almost seemed to say that the man was expecting for more food to magically appear there.  
_Right, so I’ll just stand up and leave._  
But he still stayed there. Gladio did, too. There was yet another awkward silence while both looked at either their respective dishes or somewhere on the table. A couple moments later like that, their eyes met again. They did not even need to open the mouth for the alarm to go off inside themselves, and they did hear it this time.  
“Well, dinner’s over.”  
“Yeah.”

Both started mumbling at the same time about having to get up, about how late it was, and about going to leave dishes at the sink. It was awkward. It looked like one of those dinners with the aunt of an aunt of a cousin, where none knows what to say, so both just mumble the obvious or describe what they do without even realizing, anything so long the silence was broken somehow in an attempt of breaking the awkward. And, of course, only making the awkward more obvious. Noctis could not help it but snort and swallow a loud laugh, while Luna glared at him for a moment. Beast and man dumbly made each their way to the kitchen, had an awkward encounter nearby the door (both trying to let the other through first, none agreeing, both trying to go at the same time, and repeating until eventually succeeding), and once the dishes were on their place, both left as usual, towards the stairs that parted ways after the first landing, where they, as usual, bid goodnight to each other.

\--

The quartet of friends had not questioned neither man nor beast about the previous days of awkward silence, and they also stayed quiet about the day they finally erupted in conversation. They had seen Gladio and Ignis talk a few times during those days, but they had never gone further any definitive trigger until that day; it had been absurdly clear they were forcing themselves to a halt every time they had conversation, except that night at dinner. Still, the furniture friends said nothing. Not even Iris. It was like a silent agreement they needn’t to share aloud to all feel the same way; not question anything to neither of them, at least not yet, because, if they did, there was the possibility that they would make them rethink the situation and put up a barrier again. It took them all those days (…not to count the _months_ before the awkward silence was a success as itself) to get Ignis and Gladio breaking those barriers, no way would any of the friends spoil it and make neither of them pull them back up. 

Who knew where the hell it could lead? Gladiolus and Ignis, friends. Possibly the last thing to be expected. Even the furniture that were not personal friends but rather servants or guards only were curious on the situation, and subtly glanced at them every time there was any interaction.  
To think the man that had come in swinging his daggers trying to cut Gladio’s throat and the man-turned-beast that had explicitly wanted and wished to throw the other off the ninth floor were casually smiling at each other and having tiny friendly conversations…in the name of all Six Astrals, even the Marshal was curious (he wouldn’t have admitted it hadn’t Prompto promised to keep it secret).

 

Maybe it was the curiosity of seeing how it developed, or maybe mere coincidence…whatever it was, the next day, nobody across a thousand hallways and three floors told Ignis that the library was occupied, and simply let him walk in on the beast roaming through the books. Definitely coincidence. 

When Ignis closed the library’s door behind himself, he had yet not noticed it was not empty (beast-empty, at least, since Noctis was following him riding on Umbra). Man and clock were immersed in conversation while walking deeper into the giant room. It didn’t take long before they stopped in their way and Ignis looked up when he heard noise. His eyes travelled in the direction of the source and soon enough he found a big figure digging through the books. Even though he was bent and the angle kept his head hidden, there was no way that could be anybody else but the beast. Ignis blinked at the sight and opened the mouth to call for him, as an impulse.  
_Rein that in._  
Ignis closed the mouth again half a second after opening it.

 _…but it would be rude not to make yourself present, wouldn’t it?_  
“Gladiolus” he called only loud enough for it to echo in the big room. The beast, soon, stood up on full height again and looked at his sides before turning around and looking down in the direction of the man. When his eyes found the red-cloaked (it was rainy and cold that day) figure standing there, his ears moved up and he opened the mouth to call a greeting, but he reined that in.  
_Right, but it’d be rude to not answer his greeting, right?_  
“Ignis” he ended up calling nonetheless, and could not help a little smile. “I’m looking for those books from last night.”

“Ah, of course” Ignis said and his lips turned into a tiny smile. _Dangerous, Scientia, don’t feel this much excitement._ “Have you found them?” _Rude. He’s not your friend, he’s your host, don’t be so casual._ “I mean, it was not necessary…”  
“What?” Gladio called from his spot. “Can’t hear you.”  
Ignis took some steps closer, and Noctis only looked at him with faked anger as if saying ‘Hey, you’re forgetting about me’ that the man did not even notice. Soon, Ignis was closer to Gladiolus, even though he was still a floor below.  
“I was saying that it was not necessary that you looked for them” Ignis said, calm. “You could have told me where they were and I could have looked for them. No need for your effort.”  
“Eh” Gladio shrugged it off and returned his attention to the shelf in front of him. “Not like I had anything better to do, so why not?”

Ignis had been keeping a blank face ever since he controlled that last tiny smile, but it insisted on escaping, so it showed for a few more seconds.  
“I was sure we had all fourteen books, but I only found thirteen in their place” Gladio was explaining while pulling out a book. “Sneaky tenth volume, hiding places it shouldn’t be.”  
Ignis found a bit amusing that the beast spoke like that. The imposing creature that looked like he could be roaring at everything and tearing the place to pieces, calling a book by ‘sneaky’ and talking about it like it’s about a kid or a pet. The smile escaped him again.  
“See, I knew we had all fourteen books” the beast was saying while heading to the nearby staircase, which he hurried down to the below floor. He approached Ignis calmly, holding the book, and the man stood there as calm until the beast stood in front of him. Gladio looked at him and side-smiled, before handing him the book. “There you go, Kitchen King.”  
“Ah, my category has gone up, now?” Ignis asked with that tiny smile escaping him again as he reached for the book and took it without even looking at the claws that held it. The little joke made the beast laugh shortly, but sincerely.

 _Control yourself, Ignis. No jokes._  
“Well, you _are_ the king of the kitchen” Gladio said after his little laugh, crossing the arms and smiling down at the human. “And there you go, with your royal scrolls to reign with glory, swords and spices.”  
Ignis half-snorted half-chuckled, looking away and a hand moving up by instinct to hide the laugh, even though it clearly did not.  
_What are you doing, Gladio? You said no jokes. Stop._  
_Then again, he’s laughing. And not rejecting me. What is the problem?_  
_No. That’s not the point. No jokes._  
“This is great” Ignis said while looking down at the book. “The tenth is the one I used most back home.”

 _He’s thinking about his dad and it’s going to make him sad, change subject, change subject, change subject, change subject._  
“Oh, so which are the ones you thought didn’t exist?” Gladio asked him, and so the man looked up at him.  
“The third, the eleventh, and the twelfth” Ignis replied. The beast nodded once at him, before he took some steps to a side and opened a hand to show off a nearby table that Ignis had not paid attention to until then. There, piled up, were the other thirteen books. Unable to control his curiosity, Ignis reached towards them, put the book he was holding to a side and started checking the others. Gladio, quiet, only looked at him, smiling. 

Without thinking much on it, the beast got a bit closer, looking from above Ignis’ shoulder. The man did not look at him nor did he step aside. He stayed where he was, skipping pages through the books, giving quick reads through the titles, curious eyes moving everywhere on the paper, with the beast close behind him looking from above his shoulder. From a distance, Noctis watched in silence with a blank expression, his huge eyes blinking a few times, like a child not understanding something.  
“Ah, this looks fantastic” Ignis said after a while, stopping in some page. He looked over his shoulder, and when he found the beast there looking above it, he offered no complaints. “What do you think? This recipe needs few ingredients and looks delicious.”  
“You’re asking me what about you cook that tonight?” the beast asked him, looking at the man who was still staring at him. Ignis nodded. “What kind of question is that? You have the ingredients, you cook that!”  
“Great” Ignis said and returned his attention to the books. “These instructions are…uncommon.”

“Nothing you can’t deal with, right?” Gladio asked him, leaning a bit closer over his shoulder as if wanting to find his face. Ignis turned slightly to a side not to give him his back but rather a side, and carried the book in hands, open for both to see.  
“Nothing I can’t deal with” Ignis agreed. Gladio tended to struggle with himself in presence of Ignis, and had succeeded so far on hiding it, but in those moments it was instinct when his wolf-like tail started shyly swinging, happy. The beast thanked the Astrals that Ignis could not see that, and he stopped his tail after a few swings. It was exciting, to try something new; Ignis’ cooking was already fantastic enough, so something new opened his appetite and excited him, naturally. 

The beast looked at the man, subtly, and found Ignis was still reading through the page. Gladio thought about maybe make a little more conversation out of it, but he remembered he had told Ignis he did not know how to read. He looked away and bit down on his lower lip. He felt embarrassed. _’Gods, why did I tell him that…? I had enough with my looks, it’s not helping his vision of me as a brute.’_ He, as well, remembered about the barriers he had promised himself to set up. So, all in all, he decided to not say anything else.  
Curiously enough, it was Ignis who turned around, closing the book, who spoke.  
“By the way, Gladio, I already finished some of the books you recommended” Ignis said, now face-to-face with the beast. He did not seem to be tense, despite having the table behind and the beast in front of him. “I’ve enjoyed greatly of them. The poems and the essay of the Clever King have been particularly fantastic.”  
“I know, right!?” Gladio’s ears shot upwards, and his whole expression lit up in excitement. He was not thinking as he spoke, wide smile on face. “I can’t pick a favorite poem. I’m more of a novel person, but the Clever King had an exquisite way with words, one cannot read one of his poems without aching inside.”

 _Triggered_.

“Right?” Ignis asked, not helping the smile from widening. “One of the most heartbreaking is the one that uses a sylleblossom as metaphor…”  
“…and the lonely hummingbird?” Gladio asked as if finishing his words, and he threw the head slightly back with an exhale at the time Ignis nodded. “Ugh. It took him like only seven paragraphs to traumatize his readers with that one. I think it’s his masterpiece, isn’t it?”  
“A beautiful, tragic work” Ignis said with a little exhale as well. “It’s got a lovely and precise metric. The King knew his way with poetry to the very core of the art.”

And so, beast and man continued to talk on the poems of said book. The ‘Danger’ alarm had been going on for so long it simply grew exhausted and stopped ringing. Not like any of them was listening to it, anyway. And words continued cascading, and coming, and coming, and coming…  
“Excuse me, Gladio, but I am a little confused” Ignis said after the conversation died. “You had told me you couldn’t read.”  
“And I can’t” Gladio said, not hurried nor forced; he had been thinking about his excuse all over the ten minutes of conversation. “I also told you I used to know how to read. Just forgot how to.”  
“Right” Ignis said with a little nod, eyes wandering onto the cooking books still waiting on the table. “Apologies.”  
“That’s fine” the beast said with the shrug of a shoulder. “I could have forgotten how to read, but one can’t simply forget about those poems, even if I tried.”

Conversation died there again, after a little smile and nod of agreement from the man. They shared another pair of smiles. There was something under them and under the gleam of the eyes, an understanding and tiny complicity. Understanding and complicity about literature, the sort that exclaimed ‘You read what I do’, that both were too afraid to say aloud, as if scared of the confirmation.  
_…danger?_  
Both looked other ways after they heard their internal alarm go off again. It was whenever conversation died and their voices did not shadow it that they could hear the alarm. A bit too late, but they always stopped. Going a bit awkward and finally noticing the distance between them, both took a step back, looking other ways. Looking for a way to occupy himself and come with an excuse, Ignis started taking some of the books, mumbling about wanting to check them and take them to the kitchen. Gladio, on his side, started mumbling agreements and offers of help.

Noctis, still watching from his distance, contained a huge laugh again; this had to be his favorite part, when conversation died and both fell in realization that they spent a long while (long for what they were used to, at least) talking and befriending, and it made them both go in full awkward mode. They acted and looked stupid, and the clock enjoyed a bit too much of that. _These idiots._

And, like back in the kitchen, they again went “full stupid mode” at the doors. Noctis, of course, continued to laugh to himself, and mentally cursed Prompto for not being there to laugh with him at “these idiots”. 

\--

Later that night, after spending the evening trying to avoid each other not to trigger any other interaction, time for dinner unavoidably happened, so both met again at the kitchen. Like usual, Gladio arrived some minutes after the man had started to cook, and asked if there was anything Ignis needed from the pantries, and so the human sent him there for a couple ingredients that were not there in the kitchen. The beast did as requested and left. Talcott, Ignis’ main helper in the kitchen, happily conversated like usual while bringing whatever Ignis asked him for. Nothing out of the ordinary. Soon enough, the beast was back with the things from the pantries and left them at a side on a counter.  
“Anything else you need, Ignis?”  
“Apparently, not” Ignis said as he looked at the book that he set nearby the window. Like usual, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Gladio noticed that, while cooking, Ignis did not have gloves like it was usual. He got distracted looking at his hands, one at his hip, the other up on the man’s chin while he reviewed the recipe. 

The beast smiled lightly. Ignis had pretty hands.  
_Nope. No. Step back._  
_Well, it’s not like that’s crossing any barrier. I’ve always thought he’s visually pretty. I just don’t have to tell him, that’s all._  
“Twenty minutes for this” Ignis murmured to himself, still reading the recipe. “It’s been fifteen. Let’s check” Ignis said and lifted the top of the stewpot that had been on even before Gladio had arrived to check on him. The beast had been about to exit to wait at the dining room, like usual, but curiosity was bigger than him, so he stayed and, like back in the library, he got close to look from over the man’s shoulder to look at the boiling content. The smell reached them both, and both took air in. Gladio’s tail started happily swinging again, and this time he did not put a stop to it. He let out a long and happy ‘Hmm!’ at the smell, which made Ignis smile and look back at him. “Smells good.”  
“Good? Gods, it smells like the heavens” Gladio said and, only now, he noticed the way his tail swung out of joy, so he mentally struggled until forcing it to stay still. “Can’t wait to try it.”  
“Neither can I” Ignis murmured, still smiling and directing his attention back to the stew.

At first, Gladio smiled. But, once in silence, he heard the damn alarm.  
_You’re standing too close to him. And you’re still in the kitchen. He doesn’t like that. Let’s get out._  
With no other words, the beast turned around and exited. Ignis did not stop him, nor did he gesture to try so. The man was focused in the pot and the recipe book. 

It took a little while before Gladio heard Ignis messing with some dishes, which meant everything was ready and only needed to be served. Unable to contain it, his tail started swinging again, at the time he stood up and, not thinking, he headed to the kitchen, stopping his tail before Ignis would notice. Once there, he found the man serving the second dish, the one for himself. Instead of waiting for the Ignis to carry both, Gladio took his own dish with a quiet ‘Allow me’, before turning around and hurrying his way back to the table. Ignis joined him afterwards, much calmer, and reached for his usual seat. Noctis could not help but notice the calm and ridiculously casual way in which Ignis pulled from the chair and sat there, unlike the first time he did so. How insecure and disgusted he had looked back then. 

Gladio looked at his dish like it was a treasure. Ignis glanced at him and frowned at first, looking away…until a little smile escaped him and he looked at the beast again.  
_Nobody has ever looked at my cooking like that before…_  
_No, Ignis. Remember; it’s disgusting. Look at him, the way he salivates. Disgusting._  
_Right, but I cannot blame him. That’s his nature. And if he salivates it’s because he’s excited on what he’s about to eat. On what I cooked._  
_No, Ignis. Rein that back. Stop staring._

Ignis looked away again and carefully held up his spoon. He tried to focus in his stew, but he found himself staring back at the beast. He was expecting the first reaction. When he looked again, Gladiolus was holding the bowl with both hands and was sipping from it. Ignis’ nose shrank in disgust, but he did not look away. When the beast put the bowl down, he let his head fall back and let out some sort of groan of satisfaction. Ignis’ frown deepened at the sight and he looked slightly away, but moved a hand up as if using it to control the smile starting to form on his face.  
“So damn _fantastic_ , sweet Shiva” Gladio hissed to himself and licked his lips, head returning to its place and hands going to hold the bowl again. Ignis could not help the smile this time and he stared once more. “The gods bless your hands, Ignis, this is so damn delicious” Gladio said without even looking at him, bringing the bowl up and licking his lips a last time before sipping from it again. 

The man, on his seat, smiled lightly and stare down at his own dish. He toyed a bit with the spoon and the content, smiling. He heard Gladiolus doing those awful mouth sounds from all the sipping and swallowing, the hissing afterwards, but he did not feel troubled. When Gladio put the bowl down again, Ignis looked up at him once more, as if waiting for another comment. The beast looked at him this time, shaking the head.  
“How?” was all that he asked, eyes slightly wide and smile on face. “How do you do this? You used like three ingredients, this shouldn’t be so tasty.”  
“You must be one of the most appreciative commensals I’ve ever had, Gladio” Ignis let out without thinking, looking at his own food. “I don’t remember somebody…anybody to be as excited on my cooking as you are.”  
“It’s because none have sensibility of sensing _art_ when they’ve got it in the mouth” Gladio said as half-a-joke, and Ignis smiled at him. “That, or you’ve been feeding inanimate statues. You can’t eat this and not want to kiss the chef.”

Ignis blinked at him and raised the eyebrows. His smile did not fade nor did it grow, but his eyes did give a new look at the beast. Gladio looked at him a few more seconds before it hit him on the head, realizing what he had just said, and he went a bit paranoid on it.  
_Extremely extreme most red of red alerts, Gladiolus, what are you doing!? Back off!!_  
“I don’t mean-” Gladio coughed, choking on his own saliva. “I mean as in- you get- it’s just a way of speaking, it’d be…” he laughed nervously, before he started coughing again. “I would never kiss you, I don’t even like- I don’t mean that I don’t like-” and he started coughing again. “You get what I meant, right? As in, it’s a metaphor?”  
“It’s not precisely a metaphor, rather an expression, but yes, I do understand what you mean” Ignis said and easily shrugged it off, avoiding eye contact and trying to erase that dumb smile that refused to leave. “I feel very…grateful that you’re enjoying this much of my cooking” he did look up at Gladio this time. “Thank you.”

Gladio blinked at him and his instinct was to smile back. They shared a glance again, the kind that almost felt filled of complicity even though none had anything in hands.  
The alarms ringed in their heads.  
And both ignored them.  
A few moments into the friendly stare, Ignis’ eyebrow twitched and he looked at Gladio with slight disgust as if just noticing something else, but the curve of his lips did not leave. The slight frown, however, had the beast looking down at himself and realize he had the mouth all dirty and covered in stew. It was a reflex reaction when he moved an arm up to clean himself with a sleeve.  
“Not with your clothes! What are you, a barbarian!?” Ignis yelped out at him.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think that through!”  
“Dear Astrals above, Gladiolus, it’s fine to enjoy my food, but a handkerchief never does any harm.”  
“Well, pardon me, Cleaning Wizard, I just forgot it.”

And so, a childish argue was triggered, except this one ended, after some serious yelping and eye rolling and the daily session of nagging, with a little laugh Ignis could not avoid out of one of Gladio’s jokes. The laugh did but to fuel the beast’s humor and caused him to tease Ignis with a silly ‘you want to laugh’, while the man tried to look angered, contained a laugh, and chided him for ‘being so childish’, before both came to a stop.  
Dinner continued with random intervals of conversation; silence mostly, somebody made a comment, both ignored the warnings of danger on their relationship-o-meter, something triggered some conversation both seemed ecstatic to talk about, stopped midways somewhere when they were getting too carried away or whenever any of the two laughed, and went back to an awkward silence. 

It was once dinner was over and they spent a while just sat there as if expecting for anything to happen that Noctis nudged at Prompto, calling his attention for the moment he was expecting most; that awkward moment in which both beast and man started mumbling “like idiots” before trying to reach the door and “go stupid” there. Even though Iris glared at them, both the candelabra and the clock laughed lowly and hopped to a place closer to the kitchen door just to watch the silly scene. Of course, it happened, and Noctis and Prompto had to fight each other so none would break out laughing loudly so close to them. Luckily, man and beast were busy wanting to let the other through first at the same time, awkwardly, avoiding eye contact, then both trying to go in at the same time, only to repeat the cycle, and only having the clock and the candelabra laughing much more, holding to their bodies in ache from keeping it quiet. It did not help that Prompto and Noctis started doing silent impressions of Gladio and Ignis with the door event, sending both friends into maniacal laughter.

Iris and Luna, who had been left behind, rode on Pryna when beast and man exited the kitchen and left to the stairs, in their usual routine of biding goodnight at the first landing. The tea pot and the duster watched from the distance.  
Ignis and Gladio had stopped at the usual landing, but were not saying anything. The man was avoiding any eye contact and looked rather nervous. It was Gladio, after caressing his own neck, who broke the silence.  
“So…uhm…thank you for dinner, Ignis” the beast said and smiled widely at the other. “It was fantastic. Really.”  
“I’m glad you think so” Ignis said and finally dared on eye contact, bowing very slightly at the beast only as a quick gesture. “It’s gratifying to cook for such an…eager commensal.”  
“Pleasure is all mine” Gladio said with a bow of the head. “I don’t remember to have ever eaten this good in my life, I mean, until I first tried your cooking.”

Ignis stared slightly down and widened his smile. At the same time, the beast stretched his arms above his head for a moment and let them down with a groan.  
“Anyway, off to bed” he said. “See you tomorrow, Ignis.”  
“Sleep tight, Gladio” Ignis said, and one of the beast’s ears flapped in recognition of something new; had Ignis said that before to him? And with such a pretty even if tiny smile? “Are you craving anything in particular for tomorrow?”  
“As in to eat?” the beast asked and mentally slapped himself afterwards; _well, of course to eat, what else? I must have sounded so stupid, dammit._ “Hm…if I ask for-”  
“-noodles, I won’t cook that” Ignis interrupted and finished for him, crossing the arms. “Not when we had noodles not long ago.”  
“Fine, not like I’d beg” the beast said with a smirk and the lift of an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Oh! What about some Garula meat somehow?” Gladio, with a happy smile, moved his hands up to rub at his belly. “Man, I’d so have some garula ribs right now.”  
“You _just_ had dinner, Gladio” Ignis said, but it did not sound like a nag.  
“I mean, yes, but look at my size, I could eat an entire behemoth and still have space for dessert.”  
“You’re not _that_ big.”  
“What you don’t know is that I’m ninety percent stomach, nine percent heart and one percent everything else.”  
“With such tiny lungs, you would have suffocated long ago.”  
“I was joking, Ignis.”  
“So was I.”  
“…oh. Well, how do you expect me to catch it? You sound so serious when you joke.”

And so, after a tiny laugh from both parties, conversation was triggered yet again. Still from their distance, Lady Luna and Iris watched. The only distraction was when Noctis and Prompto appeared riding on Umbra, and, when man and beast started talking and letting it go on, the clock and the candelabra started doing impressions of them, trying to synchronize their lips to the beast’s or the man’s words to pretend to be them while doing silly gestures to make each other laugh. Iris laughed at the sight, but her expression quickly transformed again in confusion and some concern when she looked again at her brother, currently arm crossed and casually talking with the human about senses of humor and garulas. 

It still took a while before both let the conversation fade at its pace, this time without stopping midway and getting flustered before “going stupid”, as Noctis had started to call their interaction. Once when conversation died after only a few but peaceful minutes, Ignis retook earlier conversation.  
“Garula that is, then” the man said and nodded once. “I’ll see what I can manage.”  
“Whatever it is, can’t wait to try it” Gladio said almost as a promise. Ignis smiled at him and softly uncrossed his own arms, the beast unconsciously mirroring the gesture.  
“I apologize for entertaining you here, Gladio” the man said. “It was not my intention to refrain you for this long.”  
“Hey; I’m not complaining” the beast replied with a friendly smile. Even though it was only a friendly comment, it felt as if though hiding a little more. Whatever that was, it caused Ignis to smile at him. Gladio kept the eyes on him, suddenly a little…excited; perhaps he was just seeing things, but he was sure he had never before seen those green eyes gleam like that. It was not that they had something new, it’s that they lacked something.  
_His disgust. It’s not there. He looks at me like anyone else would have seen my human form._  
_So normally. So thankfully, so fantastically, so greatly, blessedly…normal._

For a moment, Gladio stared down at his own feet, but he found all that fur and the claws, no shoes, no skin. He pressed his jaw slightly harder than usual. _Normal._ Funny. Funny, how everyone always tried to be different than the rest, to outstand in some way, to not be normal.  
What Gladio would give for that; to just be damn normal. Like Ignis.  
No. Not like Ignis; Ignis was different, too. Except he made of the different something marvelous, something…incredible.  
_And I, of course, am just a brute animal that can’t use a damn fork._

“Is everything in order, Gladio?” Ignis asked him after a moment. The beast looked up at him and only then did he process he had been staring at his feet with the gods know what look in the face and eyes for a while now. When he looked at the man, he did not find pity. Ignis did not feel sorry for him. But he did show something different, that people confused so easily with pity; some…worry. His expression was not frowned in concern, and he was not looking at Gladio with desperation to know how to aid him. But it was not a glare, not a cold look. He looked at him a bit confused, and slightly, subtly worried. For a moment, that made Gladio smile and feel warm inside; the next second, it pinched inside in a bitter way. Still, he forced himself not to show the way it ached, and only smiled at the man.  
“Yeah. Just a bit tired” Gladio said a bit more lowly than he had intended to. He took in an exhale without opening the mouth. “Well…see you tomorrow, then.”  
“Until then” Ignis said a bit lowly, as well, not understanding but also not caring enough to ask or insist. “Goodnight, Gladio.”  
“Night, Ignis” the beast said and gave yet another smile, before turning around. “Sleep well.”  
“May you rest, as well” Ignis said with a slight bow of the head, and turned as well once Gladio stopped looking at him from over his shoulder. 

With that, both finally parted ways.  
For a moment, Noctis and Prompto were quiet. Perhaps they had caught that last moment and had understood something was wrong. Whether they did or not, they started talking again about something Iris could not hear from her spot, and soon enough Umbra was on his way upstairs and turned left, in the direction of Ignis’ room. It was in her plans to follow but go with Gladio, yet did not ask Pryna for anything yet. Instead, the tea pot sighed and looked slightly down.  
“I don’t understand” Iris accepted lowly. “Gladdy looked very, very firm and decided to put a stop to his interaction with Ignis” said that, she looked up at Lady Luna, at her side, watching her with a soft, comprehending stare. “But between yesterday and today, they couldn’t stop talking every time they opened their mouths. I don’t get it; both seemed so decided to put distance, but they’re getting the total opposite.”  
“Oh, Iris” Luna said after a little pause, smiling. “It’s very simple; they can’t help their feelings.”  
“Feelings?” Iris asked, a little puzzled.

Lady Luna nodded at her, smiling and looking very calm.  
“Something inside them wants them to befriend” Luna started explaining. “It’s natural they feel curious about each other. Now that they’re completely sure none wants to kill the other, it’s just natural they have questions and a lot of interest to know more” she paused for a moment. “But they’re scared; they think that it’s wrong to befriend just because of their differences.”  
Iris, in an impulse, wanted to ask her if they had told her that, but she stayed quiet; sometimes, Lady Luna did not need to be told things to know or see them. So she simply trusted in what the Oracle was explaining to her.  
“My brother used to say that feelings come and go on their own, whether it’s the positive or negative ones” Luna said after a pause, and even though her smile and words were kind, the mention of her brother made Iris a little uncomfortable, by knowing it was a very delicate subject for Lady Luna. Standing at a side of the Oracle was shocking enough even after these many years in her presence as friends, so standing at a side of a sad Oracle made her a little nervous. But Luna kept on smiling. “He used to say that one doesn’t invoke feelings; they come on their own, and leave when they wish. And that the only thing we can do about them is find ways to express them, but nothing else.”

She looked at Iris again.  
“When feelings come, they are going to be expressed sooner or later” she continued, “simply because they arrived and are not planning to leave without being shown. Trying to cage them is useless; they’ll come out anyway, sooner or later” she looked again at the stairs, at the last spot where they saw the beast and the man. “The more you ignore them, the more stubborn they’ll get; the more you try to hide them, the bigger they will come out” she paused to gently ask Pryna to start going, and so the dog-turned-stool stood up and started happily walking across the hall. “It’s like trying to contain the flow of a river behind a dam; it may work at first, but nature is stronger than any creation. Sooner or later, the dam will start opening, leak by leak, until finally breaking. The river was there first, and it has its course that it will follow, because that’s its nature, no matter what you put in its way” as Pryna started going upstairs, Luna turned again to look at Iris and gifted her another smile. “It’s what’s happening with them.”

After that, she shared with Iris the comparison of feelings with a volcano. The ride stayed quiet for a while across some hallways and another set of stairs before Iris could reply.  
“Your brother had a pretty way with words” was all that she could comment, what with all the tornado of thoughts going on inside herself, but not wanting to leave Lady Luna without an answer.  
“He would have made a wonderful poet” Luna said, and this time the sadness was noticeable in her voice despite the attempts of hiding it. “Wherever he is, and whatever he’s doing…I hope he has a little moment every now and then to sit down and write something. Poetry does good to the soul and the heart, and I wish nothing for him but to be in as less pain as possible, what with his horrible situation…”

Iris had no reply yet again. She did not like to touch those matters. On a side, she wanted to reassure Lady Lunafreya and cheer her up, but she had no way to do so; Iris was young, but not an idiot. She understood very well the outcome of the curse, the inevitable end. And she knew how harmful and useless it was to feed false hopes, not to say she understood Lady Luna would not buy them anyway. A bit uncomfortable, the only matter that Iris thought about was yet another thing that she knew would be denied, but, as she hated to not have an answer for the Oracle, she simply spoke her thoughts.  
“Lady Lunafreya…” Iris called with hesitation, not looking her way. “…uhm…I know the situation, but…maybe…it can make good to your own heart if you…” she paused. “…if you used the mirror once, maybe? To check on your brother, I mean…” she tried looking at Luna, but found herself too shy to do that. “I think it could…make good to your own soul…”  
There was a silence between both girls. Pryna continued her way until she was at the hallway where Gladio’s room was, and she slowed down almost as if on purpose. 

Lady Luna smiled softly and closed the eyes, head going slightly down as she shook it.  
“We vowed as a unity, dear Iris” Luna reminded her. “King Noctis and all of us decided the mirror would stop being used for our own good. The curse has no key or solution that we know about; looking into the reminiscences of our past lives does but harm to us, reminding us of the horrible situation of the Lucian people and how powerless we are to it all, reminding us of what we used to be and cannot recover” she opened the eyes again and looked somewhere on the ceiling, without throwing the head back, only pulling the chin slightly up. “Or…reminding us that we leave a dear one behind.”

Iris stayed quiet. Yeah; she knew that. It had been both a private and a public decision with Noctis on the lead. Iris, even if a bit uncomfortable and not a hundred percent, had agreed and understood the reasons and arguments in favor to stop using the magic mirror. Still…even when Lady Lunafreya had been unmovable and had firmly stated her agreement (not to say she was one of the first to bring the suggestion up), Iris could not help but think she suffered not having a way to see her brother anymore. The Lady Lunafreya that had spoken in favor to stop using the mirror was the princess of Tenebrae and Oracle speaking thinking about the well-being of people…but what about Luna, the sister? She had rights to know about her family; she, possibly the only one with a dear one out there in the world…and forbidding herself to see him.  
Because it was harmful, or could be harmful. A reminder of the lost and unable to recover. False hopes being fed. The pain of being taken from a loved one, unable to reach for them while you fall straight into your imminent death. 

Pryna stopped at the door of the beast and scratched at it with a foot.  
“Besides” Luna interrupted the tea pot’s train of thoughts, offering a smile, “it would be unfair if we think about Ignis, our dear guest. He, too, has a dear one out there, yet he receives no news nor does he have access to the mirror to ease his heart and mind. I am no superior to him, we’re equals in our suffering of the soul” Luna’s smile softened, and Iris, with the look the Oracle…no, the look that her _friend_ , that this human being, that this once-sister was giving her, wished they had proper hands for them to hold. “If he can’t use it, what gives me any right to do so as I please?”

It was meant as a half-a-joke. Or a one-quarter-of-a-joke. Not a fully serious statement. But it still held some truth to itself, and Iris understood. While Luna smiled at her, the tea pot nodded and looked slightly away again, not uncomfortable, only with far too many things in her head.  
The door was soon opened, and Gladio greeted them and invited them inside. Luna thanked him, but said she would take her leave; Iris did hop off to make her way inside. 

Gladio was calm that night. The siblings barely spoke anything at all. The Shield did not pick a book like usual; a couple of nights since Ignis’ arrival, Gladio had interrupted his daily reading at random times, mostly whenever something new happened between them. One did not need to be a genius to know he was very, very busy and deep in his own thoughts. Iris thanked that; she did not want to speak either, since she, too, had way too many things to think about.

Ignis’ and Gladio’s attempts of refrain, and how majestically they failed at only four days or trying.  
_Trying to contain a river, but the flow is stronger than any dam._

She also thought about the magic mirror…not like it had much use to anyone inside the castle. Iris still thought that it could make good to Lady Luna’s heart if she saw her brother once more through it. That it would hurt, sure…but, Iris thought, if she was to die sometime relatively soon and had spent five years away of Gladio, she would like to see him a last time. See if he was fine. She thought that only seeing if Gladio was okay, she would accept death more easily.  
Besides, who knew where the prince…or, better said, king Ravus had gotten himself into since they last saw him two years ago.  
If what worried Luna (even though Iris knew it was not this) was that Ignis too had the right to look in the mirror and ask it to show him his dad, then why not?

Who knew. Maybe Iris could convince Gladio someday to let Ignis know about the mirror and use it. Just to calm him and make good to his heart. That way Ignis and Luna could both look at the mirror. See their loved ones.  
Maybe find the great coincidence that almost sounded ridiculous; their loved ones, together.

That night, like every night for two years now, the mirror slept forgotten, unused, covered in dust, at a side of the glass container of the rose.

The rose, where five withering petals stood firm, and the sixth one hung from an edge prepared to fall sometime very, very soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel this is more alike to a filler chapter. My apologies for that; you waited too long, and deserved better, dear readers. 
> 
> It'll get better, promise. :)


	19. The Best Man in Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On chapter 11 I made a major mistake; I mentioned Caleo to be about the same height than Ardyn. Back then I had the idea (senseless) that Ardyn was rather small (I can explain :p), when truth is he's pretty darn giant. 
> 
> Caleo is about human Noctis' height and size, if only an inch taller. 
> 
> Corrected that long ago in Ch. 11, so it doesn't confuse you here. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It would be a lie to say Lady Lunafreya had not thought about using the mirror to check on her brother. 

She had thought about it at random times over the two years that had gone on since they last properly used it. It was not something that constantly occupied her mind, the use of the mirror, but it would be a lie to say she did not care or that she had not wanted to use it. The problem was that the one who wished in the heart with ache to use the magic mirror was Lunafreya the human being whose only family left was alive and somewhere out there, Lunafreya the sister…but Lady Lunafreya, princess of Tenebrae and Oracle, did not agree.

King Noctis, Shield Gladiolus, Marshal Cor and who had unofficially taken the role of Kingsglaive captain Nyx, as well as many, countless other of people of the Citadel had used the mirror many times during the first ages; the King had used it to look at the status of the kingdom, see how it was recovering after the invasion. If he was useless to help his people, the least he could do was to worry and check on the progress the people themselves made. Some others tried to get a look for people they knew from outside the Citadel, commoner Prompto, for example. When he requested to see his parents, the mirror did not react to him nor Noctis nor Gladiolus, but he shrugged it off to theories such as the mirror not working on a commoner, the mirror not understanding if he meant his parents or his biological parents, or his parents maybe having fled Insomnia and somehow ‘out of range’ for the mirror to find. 

Lunafreya had used it, of course, to check on her brother very constantly.   
And it was terribly painful to look at.

Ravus Nox Fleuret had first been taken by the empire back when Niflheim invaded Tenebrae in an attempt of murdering the then-visiting Lucian throne family. King Regis and a small Noctis had managed to escape, but the Tenebraean family had stayed behind. Lunafreya and her mother had been relatively safe for being females in Oracle bloodline (and hence, Oracles themselves), but the king had lost his life in that attack, and Ravus had…found it worse than the king himself.   
Being taken from throne rights to be ‘trained’ as the future Commander to Niflheim troops was more than bad enough.  
That ‘being trained’ consisted on being put under constant torture, both physical and mostly emotional and psychological, just to erase Ravus the human being to try to force Ravus the ‘perfect soldier’ in him, was past horrible and senselessly cruel.

All those years of youth, Luna had known what Niflheim was doing to Ravus…or at least had an idea. Her brother always avoided the matter and did not tell her any details, so while she had understood what happened, it was still something apart. Something that happened in another world, somewhere but real life. Ravus disappeared part of the day, sometimes some nights as well, and returned. Even when she knew what happened in between, it was not _real_ to Luna. As if Ravus only existed when he was around the Tenebraean castle, only when she could see him. So when he returned to Niflheim, only survivor, and she could use the mirror to see what the Empire was doing to him…it was worse than the time their father was murdered in front of their eyes. At least the king had one strike and proceeded to rest; Ravus was put under multiple strikes every day non-stop and was not allowed a rest, and not only in the metaphor of death, sometimes to the literal point not touching a bed for goddamn three days.

It was unbearable to watch. Not only was she seeing what the Empire did to him, she was also much, dramatically much more powerless than any other time before. She was a _duster_. She was but some inches tall. A piece of furniture. She had no way to ever cross all Lucis and all the ocean to reach him, and even if she had, what could a duster do?   
Never before, not even with all those years of Tenebrae being under the Empire’s cruelty and control, had Lady Lunafreya felt as impotent as then, watching her brother through a piece of magic glass, and only able to do that; watch.  
Still, she followed his steps from time to time, to see how he was managing. Understanding he had gone back to face that constant torture only to get the title of High Commander, which would let him roam the lands as he pleased ‘in service’, legally protected from being persecuted.   
…and when, by rights now that both king and queen had died, the now King Ravus returned to Tenebrae to aid his people, he found that the Nox Fleuret were dead to everyone.

Ravus had been affected by the curse, and not at the same time.  
He had been at the gardens when the Wizard casted his curse upon the Citadel. He was inside the outside of the _inside_. It was part of the Citadel, but it was not within the walls of the buildings themselves.   
This caused that he saved himself from turning into a piece of furniture, but not from being forgotten by the rest of the world. 

What could he do if, when he arrived at Tenebrae to claim his throne, nobody remembered the Nox Fleuret to have ever existed in centuries? How could he explain he had the royal blood in his veins when it was chronologically impossible for that to be true?   
How could he be king of a kingdom that could not recognize him?

Unable to do anything about it, and watching his country being run by a council, king Ravus was forced _once more_ to be taken from his rightful title.  
The next that Luna had seen him do was retake his steps back into Lucis, to seek for an answer to save her. Watched him struggle walking the distance of weeks, months between both kingdoms, alone, watched him steal money to survive, alone, watched him open his path through beasts, robbers, through _people_ that got in his way, coldblooded, not blinking when his sword got dirtied, not once looking back at any corpse, alone.  
Alone, everything that Lunafreya watched him do was done in entire and absolute loneliness.   
It was not that he was bad at making friends. It was that the Empire never once gave him the chance to even try to make one, and by the time Ravus was taken from his kingdom and his people’s memories, he had turned into what he and Luna had fought so hard for him not to become.  
A weapon. 

Maybe Ravus had been turned from a human being into a weapon long before the curse, but had remained human thanks to his only treasures and sources of love; his mother and sister.   
So, of course, being taken from both at the same time only did but finish his transformation.   
Love was (and is and will always be) a wonderful kind of magic. One of the strongest emotions that can develop in the human heart.  
But everything has an opposite to exist in balance; the one finding the greatest joy will find the greatest misery, the one finding the greatest pain will find but the greatest peace.  
That who loves with the entire soul can hate in the equal measures.  
There where his darkness was the thickest, his sister and mother had been the only lights that kept him in the correct path. Being taken from them was not only losing the path, but also returning to full darkness.   
One could do anything for love. One could hate for love. One could murder for love.

Just as Ravus was doing. But to hate for love, to murder for love…he was not doing those things thanks to loving too much. He was doing those things to _save_ his love, regardless of what happened to him. Love does not always come romantically; the love of somebody’s life could be mother, or father, or brother, or friend, or companion, or pet…or sister.

Taken from everything, Ravus had nothing to lose, and only one thing to recover. Mother and father were gone. His throne and kingdom were gone.  
But his sister could be saved.  
How, that was the question. And Ravus had spent two years seeking for the answer.  
…or, better said, he spent a year seeking for the Wizard, and another year waiting for the rose to finally wither for everyone else to die, except for Luna, saved in the last moment by Ardyn.   
It sounded senseless like that: that, as soon as he found the Wizard, all that he did was to ask him and the Wizard promised to save her asking nothing in exchange. Except, of course, that Ravus stayed with him until the rose died. With his sword. To murder whoever got in the way of the curse. To not say anything about it. To not return to the Citadel.  
It was an explicit blackmail, to the point of nerve: ‘stay with me, obey me, don’t interfere with my plans, and I give you your little tantrum called Sister in return, or leave, disobey, interfere or try something in free will, and I murder her’.   
What _else_ could Ravus do?

He did not care about his kingdom, what happened to the Lucis Caelum, nothing. He could be taken from his throne rights, he could be forgotten by everyone, but he could not let his sister die. Not when she had done nothing wrong. And not when it would be fault of the Lucis Caelum.   
The despicable Lucis Caelum.   
The so hated Lucis Caelum, who had brought the Empire into his home. Who had brought death to his father. And then appeared again only to bring death to his mother too.   
_But you won’t do that to my sister, not so long I breathe._

The same time that Ravus spent looking for an answer, stumbled upon the Wizard, and ended up blackmailed and under his service, the same time had the mirror been unused. By a strike of terrible, horrible luck, nobody in the castle knew about the connection between Wizard Ardyn and Commander Ravus that had been going on for a year. 

After the first three years, and starting Ravus’ journey out of Tenebrae and into Lucis, king Noctis, Lady Lunafreya and the new members of the Council had decided to stop using the magic mirror. It did but harm, as Lady Lunafreya had said to Iris the day she brought the subject to conversation.   
Harm it caused, but it could have brought essential information, would they use it to see the Wizard’s movements through Ravus, currently under his service. 

Luna had thought about using the mirror in those last two years. She worried for Ravus. She, the sister, the human being, ached to know about him, have news of his current situation. But she could not do that, for her own good, for the good of everyone else. There was nothing she could do, not for the people of Tenebrae, nor the Lucians, she could not even help the people of the Citadel, not even herself…there was nothing she could do for Ravus, and watching was only a constant torture. To watch Ravus suffering and aching to cruel depths of his soul, and to watch him cause suffering…it was more than she could handle. Even the Oracle, the selfless Oracle herself, had a limit of suffering. 

She believed, though. She had hope, faith even. Faith and hope that what Ravus had become was but a state that could be cleaned, washed away. She believed very firmly that, while recovering the kid Ravus had once been was impossible, there could be a new Ravus that was the opposite of his current being. She believed that the real Ravus hid somewhere deep in his soul, caring, hopeful, and good. She believed with all her heart that this Ravus, the one that murdered without a regret, the one that opened his path with the sword, the one that could squeeze somebody’s throat and watch them in the eye until their last breath and drop them like they were but garbage, was _not_ Ravus. He could not be.

Luna also believed that, maybe, all that Ravus needed was for somebody to break through the rock that was covering his heart to discover the real one underneath; she was aware there was not a way to become human again, and that she and Ravus parted ways for the rest of their lives back after the curse, so she knew that that person could not be her. She had to blindly trust the task to someone else that, she hoped, Ravus could meet soon, or probably had already met. Not even a romantic partner, as his brother was not too interested in such a relationship. But maybe a sisterly figure that could somehow replace the void she left in him, maybe a brotherly figure, an intimate friend, maybe a motherly figure, maybe somebody to look up to, maybe a pet, a companion of any kind. Maybe even a fatherly figure. Someone that could touch inside him and crack that shield Ravus was hiding behind to reveal his real heart. 

She hoped, sometimes even prayed for this being to find their or its way to her brother. For his health, and for his heart. He was blinded, walking in the dark. He only needed a little light; not even the sun, not even a fire. Even only a little flame could help him see and recover his true path.   
Even only a little _flame._

\--

It was something about Caleo Scientia.   
It was something about this man he was forced to follow around, forced to help, forced to _attend_. Something about him that bothered Ravus.

In the past bloody _month_ (or almost), Ravus had been but this “old man’s dog”. He had been tasked to keep a spying eye and ear on him all the time, with the duty of murdering him if he opened the mouth to somebody else about what he saw in the Citadel, but covered under the role of the “healer’s assistant”, precisely now that Caleo most needed to be medically attended. But it was not attending him what bothered him. It was not that he had to go to the market with or instead of the man himself, it was not that he had to see him to bed, follow him around and forced to listen if he was requested something. Ravus had spent that month majorly annoyed at every of those moments, at every small and big thing of this month being a nurse, and he had always assumed it was natural to feel so outraged because of his duty.

But it was not that. What bothered him was not doing something what caused all that burning anger inside himself. It was not what he did, but rather with and for _who._  
He did not dislike to do things for Caleo, he disliked _Caleo_.   
The realization hit him all these weeks later, and even during the realization he had yet another one.  
No; he did not dislike Caleo.  
He _hated_ him. 

There was something Ravus could yet not name that made him _despise_ this old man with the core of his gut. Every time he looked at him, something inside Ravus turned into a void, which was immediately filled with nothing but a raging fire that wildly consumed him inside and made him feel like a mad animal. Every time the man spoke to him, stood nearby him, every time he crossed his sight range or breathed, Ravus felt the necessity of taking him by the throat (one hand would be enough, this man was not particularly tall or tough), and squeeze, squeeze enough for Caleo’s face to turn purple, for him to go down to his knees and silently beg, but not enough to kill him. Only with the strength that was necessary to asphyxiating and then let go, only to repeat, over and over, until the man would rather stop breathing on free will to stop the torture than stand Ravus’ hatred blazing strong in his eyes. He made Ravus want to murder him with the use of only bare hands, and watch him suffer as he died.

Caleo woke in him his cruelest side. The question was, why?

Caleo Scientia had done nothing to him, not good nor bad. Ravus had no personal issues for such a burning hatred to be born every time he looked at this man. Not even an indirect reason, Ignis himself included. The guy had done nothing to him either for Ravus to feel hatred for his father. If anything, Ravus had reasons to be fond of him, due to how Ignis had treated him.  
‘We’ve only spoken once or twice, and it was regarding nothing of importance’, he had told Ardyn. And, well, it was not entirely a lie. They had spoken only very few times, and it was not something of importance…to Ardyn.   
Despite his initial attempts of pushing Ignis off him, Ravus found himself talking poetry and literature with this young man, both too introvert or reserved or uninterested in the local party both were forced to attend, and both together in a little bubble of their calm interaction away of the rest, and _enjoying_ of it. Not to say it had been Ignis who made it legally possible for Ravus to have a house in those moments.  
But, as intimate as that story sounds, the truth is that Ravus had never seen in Ignis any ally, and he was way too far from being any friend.   
Ignis, to Ravus, meant as much as an ant; a constant ‘whatever’ feeling.   
Unless it got in the way.

Just like an ant, Ignis, to Ravus, went unseen, unnoticed; his way, activities, life and actions mattered nothing, and never did he cross the Tenebraean’s mind, unless it involved getting in his way. In which case, of course, Ravus would step on him if he refused to move.  
Those little and unimportant interactions had been enough for Ravus to know who the guy was, what he looked like, but that was it. Ignis meant nothing to him, and if he was becoming a threat to recovering Lunafreya, then that ‘nothing’ turned into ‘enemy’.   
Ravus had considered that perhaps it was the news that Ignis was a threat to his goal what was causing in him this baseless hatred towards Caleo; when he knew the young Scientia had somehow been stupid enough to end up in the Citadel and was a direct threat to recovering Luna, Ravus raged inside and cursed him mentally, had spent the night growling and punching a wall wondering why the fuck Ardyn had not just simply murdered him, he had been and still was angry towards and about Ignis. So, he reflected, maybe that was why having to deal with his father was making him feel this much anger and hatred for Caleo.  
But it did not feel like that.

If Ravus was angry, that was towards Ardyn; Ardyn, who did not kill Ignis when he could. He was not upset at Ignis’ presence, he did not particularly _want_ him dead, he was angered at the fact that things could have been solved if _Ardyn_ had acted. Ignis was just an object or a thing put in between, not his focus of anger. Hence, his anger of the situation was in Ardyn, who had nothing to do with Caleo. Then, what was it that made him hate Scientia father so agonizingly much?

All thoughts kept him busy at random times of the day, but he had yet not come to an answer. So he simply did as told; stick to Caleo at times. Like a dog following its owner. Doing things to expect a bone for prize.   
_Denigrating._

Ravus had had no idea there was something he would enjoy less than being with Ardyn. Well…no, being with the Wizard was the most disgusting to experiment, but at least, by this point, Ravus was already used to his presence, enough for the anger to be moderate, but Caleo was relatively a new experience and it still caused his guts to fire up like the first days. Having to go shopping with this old man, hear him ask which apple is prettier, this Lucian commoner talking to the once Niflheim Commander and Tenebraean current _king_ , it was exasperating.   
But what _else_ could Ravus do?   
Ardyn had ordered him to do this. And Ardyn was the only one who could save Lunafreya, literally the only one. Unless Ignis fell in love with that Amicitia brute literal _animal_. 

_He’s too reserved and the hardest catch,_ Ravus used to think whenever he thought about the key of breaking the curse that Ardyn had told him about, _not to say Ignis is far beyond Amicitia’s level. Ignis would have a heart attack at the mere idea of bestiality. It’s not going to happen._  
Or so he hoped. While it would be a key to recovering Luna, Ardyn had threatened that, if that happened, he would murder everyone in there, her included.   
Ravus hated to think of this as fear for Ardyn. It was not fear; the man did not make him want to hide under a table. But Ravus was also aware that there was _nothing_ anybody could do against the Wizard. Nobody could murder him.   
‘ _I know. I killed him myself.’_  
 _’And I saw him come back to life like it was a joke.’_

If Ardyn had escaped from the Citadel invasion majorly injured with no success of having killed Noctis and Lunafreya, that was only thanks to the Glacian. The presence of Shiva was overwhelming for everyone, except Lunafreya, as if she had been expecting the Astral to appear. And, while Shiva could not kill him, she had majorly injured him and had turned him vulnerable to the human weapons.   
‘ _But now the Glacian is dead…’_  
She had disappeared after her attack, which seemed to have been a sacrifice. And if it was not, then she at least had not found time in her tight goddess schedule to appear and fix the goddamn mess.   
_’Good for nothing.’_

Unable to do anything to stop Ardyn, blackmailed with his sister’s life on a thread, what was Ravus supposed to do…but obey?  
Even if that including standing at this old man’s house to watch him fucking cook. 

 

Ravus rarely spoke with him, but with every passing day Caleo seemed to try harder and harder to befriend him. Befriend. Not even treat like a nurse or ‘the healer’s assistant’, Caleo was treating him like a _friend._   
_Like he has any right to do so._  
He should be bowing to Ravus, he should be calling him ‘Your Majesty’, or at the very least ‘Commander’, Caleo should be serving him, speaking to him as their roles suggested. But no, of course. 

Ravus watched with a frown and arms crossed as the man spoke and spoke while his hands were occupied in whatever he was cooking. Even though Ravus had kept it clear he did not want to eat, Caleo insisted on asking every now and then. Right now he talked nonsense and irrelevant stuff about whatever-the-fuck, and the Tenebraean just watched, attentive but not at the same time, never once replying to anything or showing any sign to be listening. Still, that did not seem to bother Scientia father. Ravus watched him from behind, and his frown did but deepen and his fingers tightened around his own arms. To watch him as calmly cooking and even giving a little laugh at times, it was desperately _annoying._ Gods, how much Ravus wanted to take him by the hair and hit his face into a wall until making his skull break. 

“-but I do think he’s not a bad teacher” Caleo was continuing to explain whatever the hell he was talking about non-stop to him. “His methods are simply not so pedagogic, not for children aged ten, but he’s not a bad teacher.”  
Ravus did not offer any reply and continued to offer a cold glance only. The older man turned around with two dishes that he placed down on the table. Two dishes. The sight made Ravus’ frown deepen noticeably. He watched Caleo look up at him and offer a naïve smile.  
“I know you’re not hungry right now, but I thought maybe for later?” Scientia senior offered and he stood there, a bit shyly, expecting an answer. It did not come. A bit awkward, Caleo whispered a little ‘Of course’ before sitting down at the table. “Why don’t you sit down? I hate you’re always standing. Feel welcome to my house; it’s yours as well.”  
“No, it isn’t” Ravus said sharply. And simply; there wasn’t any other word from him afterwards. Caleo moved a bit uncomfortable in his chair and looked at a side as if looking for a little help, but ended up looking up at the young man again.  
“At least do feel welcome to take your coat off” Caleo offered, and then his eyes went down. He smiled nervously back up at Ravus. “Or…your sword? It must be heavy. Aren’t you uncomfortable? It’s okay to drop it, we’re safe here.”

Ravus offered no response and only continued to watch him from a prudent distance, like a jailer instead of a nurse or attendant.   
“Right…” Caleo whispered again after a moment. He took his fork and made a few awkward gestures before offering another shy glance to him. “I’ll…I hope…do excuse me, young man; I’ll eat, so…”  
“So?” Ravus asked after a long pause, raising an eyebrow and keeping his frown upon his face. “Start eating. Or what? Do you require me to feed you in the mouth myself?”  
Caleo stared slightly down and away after that, with a whispered and shy ‘No’ in a little exhale. Said no more, Caleo started eating, if a bit awkwardly. Ravus continued to watch him, frown on face, eyeing his dish, his hands and face. It was everytime that he looked at Caleo’s physical appearance that that fire of hatred grew inside him senselessly. Angered, Ravus looked away not to let his emotions drag him towards the man to slit his throat out of mere rage.

_’This is ridiculous’_ , Ravus thought to himself, tired of his job. He was there to spy over Caleo and make sure he said nothing regarding the Citadel to anyone, but the man had not done or said anything to anyone. He only had a few friends, none of which knew anything. This job was senseless, and Ravus was at one inch of dropping it.  
“My son cooked this much better than I” Caleo said with a little smile, still eating. Ravus only glanced at him once before staring away again, no answer. “I’ve never been good in the kitchen. I’m not terrible either, but my son has a lot of years of practice.”  
No answer.  
“I think we made the right choice on the Leiden potatoes we picked” Caleo said and the use of pronoun ‘We’ made Ravus’ frown deepen and his hands’ grip on his arms tighten. “Even with my bad hand for the kitchen, this tastes really good. As good as it can get coming from me, that is.”  
Caleo chuckled at the end of his words, and it only made Ravus a little angrier.   
“Definitely nowhere close to Ignis’ cooking, of course…”

Ravus’ eyes moved up in exasperation; fantastic, now the man would get all dramatic and sad on him. Like he had not had enough of Caleo’s whining and constant breakdowns. Ravus usually left if the man started breaking on him, because it tended to happen at night, when Ravus’ shift (inexistent) was ‘over’, so it was not in his paycheck (the one he did not have) to work extra hours, so he left Caleo sat at his bed with his stupid tears. _’He thinks he’s the only one that’s lost someone important….’_ This time, however, it was mid-lunch so it would be new abandoning him in those moments. But not like Ravus was paid for this shit, or like Ardyn had ordered him a specific schedule. Uncrossing his arms and turning to look at Caleo to deliver some aggressive comment for ‘goodbye’, Ravus shut his words before they even came out when he found the old man staring at…his sword. The Tenebraean stood quiet, taken a bit off-guard; Caleo tended to look at him to the eyes or the feet, and he had been noticeably avoiding to look at his sword on purpose all these weeks. But not this time; in those moments, Scientia father stared at it like it was a cursed treasure, unsure of whether to take it or not. 

Ravus stayed quiet and watched Caleo look up from his sword to his eyes, about to speak, but shutting it before the words came out when they made eye contact. Aware that his stare frightened him to a certain point, Ravus still did not soften it or looked away. Caleo had to arm himself with a bit more of courage before speaking. He had long left his fork at a side.  
“…Ravus” Caleo called a bit lowly, not looking at him. “You…always carry your sword…”  
“How observant” Ravus replied bitterly.   
“What I mean is…” the older man tried looking up at him again, hesitated, and stared away again. “I’m guessing…you’re…you’re a soldier? I mean, you…you must know how to handle it and…”  
“If the question is if I know how to fight” Ravus cut him off, “then yes.”  
“And…are you…I mean, you’re tall and you look very strong, so I’m…I’m guessing…”  
“Are you _questioning_ whether I’m good or not?” Ravus asked as if personally offended, squinting the eyes in a glare that made Caleo stare down. “There is _no one_ that could offer a fight to me. Not even your son.”

Caleo’s expression trembled slightly at the mention of Ignis, and his fists tightened a bit, but he did not look any angered. On the opposite, he looked hurt.   
_’Pathetic.’_  
“Right” Caleo murmured, still not looking up at him. There was a long pause. He took in a deep breath as if again gathering courage within himself. “I was…wondering, young man…” he paused yet again and gestured a bit with the hands. His food was long forgotten, and he did not even seem to notice it was there. “…you know…uhm…”  
“If you’ve got something to say, let it out at once or stop making me waste my time” Ravus said after a few stuttering and moments in which the older man tried to say something and hesitated all the time. Scientia father looked at him as he spoke, and kept the eyes on him a little more, hands nervously tightening and loosing over and over. Caleo nodded, understanding, and still paused, clearly a little anxious.   
“…if I told you…that I…that I know…or that I have an idea of where my-…of where Ignis is…” Caleo started in almost a murmur. He paused again, face pale and shoulders trembling subtly from the anxiety that was starting to show in him. He tried to look at Ravus but failed. “…would you…would you…help me save him?”

Ravus’ frown did not soften; it only transformed from a frown of exasperation to a frown of suspicion. This was going the way Ravus had been waiting for a month; Caleo was stepping in a dangerous zone. As he thought on it, Caleo interpreted the silence not as a moment of reflection on Ravus’ side, but rather as hesitation.   
“I mean” Scientia father added, “what I want to say is…” and he paused yet again. It was far beyond obvious this man was as nervous as he could get. Yet, Ravus said nothing and only watched him, attentive. Caleo bit down on his lower lip as if fighting with himself not to talk, fists tightened and resting on the table. In the end, his quiet desperation won and made him open the mouth. “Ravus…you’ve been looking after me for a month and…I know you’re trustworthy.”  
The Tenebraean said nothing and watched him as quiet and glaring as before, growing impatient that the man just did not snap it out directly.   
“And I wanted to tell you…” Scientia father continued, as nervous as before. “Well…I know I should not be speaking of this, but I thought…” he took in a shaky breath that he contained only to let out as tremblingly, eyes going down. “…Ravus, truth is, there’s…there’s a…there’s a beast that’s keeping my son prisoner.”

Ravus’s eyebrows furrowed more, eyes not moving off the man one single second. This was precisely what Ardyn had told him to watch out for; the moment Caleo opened the damn mouth. Sure, he was telling Ravus, who was already aware of the situation, but if he dared speak to him, he would dare speak to others, sooner or later.  
“I _know_ how it sounds, Ravus, please don’t judge until I’ve…” Caleo said while showing an open palm to him as if asking silence, even though Ravus had said nothinge. Scientia father looked like the times he was starting to get some sort of anxiety attack. “…I know how it sounds. Beasts devour and kill, they don’t keep prisoners, I know. But you _have_ to believe me” he looked up at Ravus with tearful eyes. “My son is…trapped in the same space where a beast roams. Let’s put it like that. And…and Ignis could walk out of there himself if only the beast wasn’t there, but the beast is…” he looked down. “…It is too much for Ignis to handle alone. But…Ravus, I’m sure you’re an excellent warrior” despite the tears in his eyes, he offered a smile to the younger man. “And, maybe, with your help, we could…defeat that beast. But I don’t- I don’t mean you go alone, I wouldn’t put you in such risk; I don’t look down on your skills, but the beast is too much. I don’t know if you could handle it on your own…”

One of Ravus’ eyebrows twitched by reaction to those words and the fire inside himself burnt much bigger; that this man had the imprudent courage of even just _thinking_ Gladiolus Amicitia was a challenge to him, let alone say it aloud…  
Ravus’ hands tightened into fists, and all that he wanted to do was to scream to this man that he alone could handle the beast just fine with the flicker of only one hand alone. He had done it in the past, he could do it now. Gladiolus was proud of his height and strength, and bragged around about it, but truth was he was a useless, broken Shield that could not protect even himself. Ravus could defeat him with one hand, and without a lock of hair getting out of place, he was sure. He had not seen his beast form, but it mattered absolutely nothing; Ravus knew he could handle him, whether it was Gladiolus as a human or Gladiolus as a beast. Not like there was any difference at all, Amicitia had always been an animal.

Caleo sighed quietly. The younger man blinked once, eyes not moving off him, attentive.  
“Ravus, I…I should not be talking about this, but…I know you won’t say anything” Caleo continued, looking at him this time, and standing from his place at the table to round it as he spoke, even though the distance between them was still noticeable. “…but I’ve been thinking for a while, with Aranea and her troop back to town, and you, so tall and strong and I’m sure so skilled, and maybe the Healer too…maybe…I was thinking that, maybe…as a _group_ …”  
At those words, Ravus’ eyes squinted very subtly, glare intensifying on Caleo; he had already suspected the way this was going, but now it was involving more people. This was precisely what Ardyn had ordered him not to let happen.  
His left hand subtly moved, the fingertips rubbing on the sheath of his sword.  
“One person could not defeat such a monster alone, but, with _your_ strength, and Aranea’s, and with the help of many other hunters and soldiers, maybe we could- as a team, with a strategy and weapons against the beast, maybe if we get that a group of skilled people to listen to me and accept helping…” Caleo continued, managing to sound both hopeful and hopeless at the same time, which only made Ravus more disgusted of him. _Weak._ “…maybe then we could have a chance. All odds on our favor. A group of people could…”

Caleo stopped mid-sentence to exhale and move a hand to hold onto his head.   
“I have a few friends from the townsguard” he said, and headed for a desk. He opened a drawer and started looking into it for something.  
And Ravus turned to look at him, careful, now that Caleo was giving him his back.   
While the older man continued to talk about the friends he had in townsguard and planning to form his stupid little squad, Ravus’ right hand carefully moved up until landing on the grip of his sword, fingers wrapping around it. As silently as only he knew how to walk, Ravus started to very slowly approach him. Caleo continued to speak, distracted and looking into the drawers, while the Tenebraean got closer, closer.  
As he got closer to the Lucian, Ravus started unsheathing the sword, very slowly for it not to make any sound, and his steps continued, one after the other, careful and subtle not to be heard. 

‘I’ll make it quick; he won’t feel anything’, he had promised to himself a month ago. Ravus eyed his back and quickly localized the spot where he could bury the sword for it to cross the heart and make it as quick and clean as possible. But, watching the grey-haired head from behind, that small body dressed in black, it made him want to not aim for that spot of quick death. For a moment, Ravus wondered how less of a human it would make him to stab Caleo in the torso to cross his body but not to kill him, keeping a hand to his mouth to drown his screams, and continue to bury the sword as deep as it could go, twist it a bit inside to make the man suffer a little more, and continue, go on for _hours_ until Caleo died not out of a pierced vital organ, not even by bleeding, but rather out of _pain._

_’What is it? Why does this man make me want so desperately much to make him suffer to death?’_

But it was not time for that. Right now he was only tasked to kill him quick and clean, now that he was decided to open the mouth about the Citadel. If he spoke, Lunafreya died. So a quick slash that would be.   
“-I know I’ve left them somewhere here, but I don’t…” Caleo was still speaking to himself while digging through the drawer, Ravus a few steps behind, a quarter of the sword already unsheathed and prepared to fly out of the in only one, two steps more…  
Ravus glared harder at him, and his fist tightened around the sheath-  
-when Caleo turned around.  
As he did, Ravus turned to offer a profile view at the time he sheathed his sword, quickly and causing it to make noise, but as Caleo was still speaking, he did not notice, not sounds or sight thanks to the Tenebraean’s elegant quick-but-silent way of moving. Scientia senior did show to be a little startled from Ravus standing noticeably closer, but did not question that.   
_Such a blind trust, how stupid is this man?_

“I think that maybe I could talk to Aranea today” Caleo told him and continued his way past Ravus and towards the front door. Ravus tensed a bit, and thought about running to him to kill him before he exited through the door (not like there was no going back if he went through it, but it would take longer and that was something Ravus did not have the patience for). However, once in front of the door, Caleo stopped like he had walked into a wall and hesitated for a moment, before he let out a loud sigh, his shoulders untensing, and his forehead leaning to rest against the door.  
“Who am I kidding? The beast will see us approach, and that will only put Ignis in a greater danger…”  
If Ravus did not know what the situation was, he would think this man had lost his head to insanity. Such switch from one emotion to the other so fast, mumbling to himself. This man would go crazy some day.   
_’He’s losing it at four months, I’ve waited five bloody_ years.

Caleo turned again before Ravus could unsheathe the sword, and waited for a few moments. He moved a hand up to clean his eyes before he would drop the tears in them, and walked back closer to the table, where he put a hand.   
“I need to think better about it, Ravus” Caleo said with a sad smile, eyes fixed on the wooden table. “I’m sorry for…this sudden…breakdown of sorts.”  
“You should learn how to keep composure” Ravus stated in a normal speaking voice, no scream or mumble, like usual. Caleo looked at him with naïve eyes, and watched as the Tenebraean approached the main door, not glancing his way. “I believe it’s been enough for today. I’ll be back at night.”  
Scientia father only nodded, quiet. Ravus got to the door and held the knob, but he stopped and waited some moments, hesitating. Maybe he could suggest to Caleo to not say anything, implicitly saving his life…

Ravus said nothing; he opened the door, and without another word he exited and left the man alone in his house.   
Ravus had started to head somewhere to start looking for Ardyn and notify him, but he decided to just keep walking nowhere at all to take a break before that; visiting the daemon scumbag right after spending hours with the naïve and pathetic Scientia father would make no good to his bubbling-with-anger entrails.

\--

By the time Ravus decided he could not put off his report to Ardyn any longer, it was already nighttime. Caleo had not gone out of his house at all, and if he did that was to visit his brother at the townhall. Knowing the eldest of the Scientia brothers, the most possible was that the major was too busy for him to properly stop and listen to Caleo talk long. He did not doubt they could talk family stuff and other non-government related things, but definitely nothing as intimate as Caleo’s secret of what he witnessed in the Citadel. So that was not a matter of worry. 

Ravus went to visit Ardyn’s hut at the outskirts of the town, but he found it to be empty. Muttering a curse and moderately punching a wall, Ravus exited and walked all the way back; it was not a long distance, but even if it had been one yard he would have been angered. He despised Ardyn enough as he was, that the man did not tell him when he was not home just to make him go and check anyway on purpose did but anger him more. But he would not give Ardyn the satisfaction of seeing him as upset. Or…more upset than normal, at least. On his way back to town, Ravus listed the possible places in which Ardyn could be, and decided to start in town; one of the favorites spots of the Wizard was at the outskirts either north or east of there, where he liked to breathe, on his words, that ‘pestilent and horrid odor of daemons and darkness coming from over there’. Ravus constantly thought it was Ardyn’s dramatic attempt of scaring him, but he had never once given him the pleasure to see him react to that with fear or nervousness. If anything, the only thing that made it a bit hard for Ravus to keep composure whenever he found the Wizard taking his ‘pestilent breath of darkness’ was watching his real daemonic face, not out of fear but out of disgust. 

Before going to check to those places, Ravus decided to look in the possibilities within town itself; it would be exasperating if he was not in a public space but in some random house attending some sick, because that would need of more time and the Tenebraean hated to be put to wait, even worse when it was him who had to look for others. He was a bloody _king_ , not a dog or a delivery boy. It took Ravus a quick visit to the hospital and the main square before he found the Wizard…or Healer or whatever the hell that thing was, there in his favorite tavern.   
Ravus constantly wondered whether Ardyn, as a daemon as he seemed to be, actually _needed_ of food or any other organic thing that could be eaten or drank. He used to wonder if his system did not only not need it but if it also rejected it, like vampires from tales, but he had watched the Wizard eat and drink, but had never seen him require of bathroom. Maybe food and liquids just…disappeared in some void inside him, or the daemons inside ate it or something. He could put things to his mouth, but did they _taste?_ Maybe Ardyn just ate out of…some hobby, but could not feel the flavor of anything?

It was very possible, so Ravus had found it senseless, his liking for the tavern and restaurants and other places, but had dug through the years that what Ardyn enjoyed of those places was not the food or the drinks themselves, but rather the praise of people. Ardyn, not only well known but rather famous and even _adored_ by the people, was constantly cheered for in the public spaces he spent a while at. People would point at him, happily greet him, cheer from afar, go to shake his hand, hug him, ask him to give his ‘blessing’ to their pets or kids. It was terrifying and incredibly, disgustingly sickening, but that was, of course, because Ravus knew his true being, while the Lucians all saw him as nothing but the marvelous blessing of a Healer that could revert the Starscourge. It was not necessary that the Lucians knew what the last consequences of the Starscourge were, it was bad enough with the little they knew about it to become hopelessly devoted to the one man that could heal such a strange illness.

No wonder Ardyn liked to spend time in public spaces like taverns and restaurants. The food could not matter any less; it was the people’s praise, all those “stupid Insomnian people” complimenting him, kissing his hands, some even bowing before him. Ravus did not understand why Ardyn needed that; the Wizard despised and felt disgusted by the Lucian people, had explicitly told so to Ravus, yet he usually went to get their approbation and love? At first it did not make sense, until Ravus understood that Ardyn did not necessarily ‘need’ it, and perhaps only wanted it. No strategy and no plan, just the love for his own ego. Whatever his reasons, Ravus did not care. He could do whatever the fuck he wished so long that did not mess with Tenebrae or Lunafreya. 

It was easy to spot him as soon as Ravus walked through the door. Unnecessarily extravagant and maybe even pompous, Ardyn enjoyed of his flamboyance and fame, attired in his excess of clothing, his bycocket hat (completely unnecessary being both on an inside and during the bloody night), sat at the best chair nearby a corner, a female that Ravus found disgustingly young for Ardyn sat at one of the chair’s arms, a guy sat nearby, a few more people gathered, all watching him with devoted eyes and laughing at his awful jokes delivered in his stupidly flamboyant way of speaking. The worst about these people, the young female included, was that Ardyn never asked them to come nearby; they approached him on free will.   
Disgusting. Even if these were Lucians and Ravus was not particularly fond of them, they were a thousand, a million times better than Ardyn. Not even the Lucians, as naïve and dumb, deserved to be close to that thing.

Ravus walked in and controlled his anger not to snap a neck with a hand when a drunk man bumped into his side, and decided to ignore him and just go straight towards Ardyn. He went in straight line, eyes fixed on the Healer, steps calm but firm. People opened the path to him; his sole presence was enough to subconsciously make others move at a side before they even thought about it. The people that were gathered around Ardyn all shut their laughter and turned to look at Ravus as soon as he appeared.   
“Ah, Ray, you’re visiting” Ardyn greeted, opening the arms as if showing the Tenebraean off or welcoming him. Ravus did not let him see the way the nickname made him rage inside. “As white and majestic as always. My friend, you have got the essence and presence worthy of a king.”  
More mockery. The Lucians, having forgotten about Tenebrae’s throne heir, heard that as a compliment. Ravus, on his side, knew the real intention of it.   
“Look at yourself, the white presence of Northern Insomnia” Ardyn continued, looking at him with exaggerated adoration, up and down, still showing him off. “White long overcoat, pale skin, silver hair. Ah, so outstanding for the Lucian code of black attire, don’t you think? You almost look like a Niflheim soldier, my dearest friend.”

Yet another comment that could be brushed off as a joke on the Lucian side, but that Ravus received in an entirely different context. Publicly humiliated, without the public noticing. Certainly a cruel way of mockery. But Ravus was too used to worse things to show any reaction of hurt.  
“I need to talk to you” Ravus said simply.  
“Well, my friends and I have been invested in a nice chat for a few hours now” Ardyn replied with a smug expression that made the Tenebraean want to punch his teeth out. “We’re excited to-”  
“Alone.”  
“Oh! Somebody isn’t as outgoing, are we, Ravy?” Ardyn said with his always exaggerated expressions. As he asked the people gathered around for some space the way he knew how, Ravus counted to ten in his head and swore to the Astrals that if the rose of the curse did not fully wither that year for Ravus to recover his sister and finally get away of Ardyn, he would personally find all remaining Astrals and murder them with his own bare hands just for a tantrum. Once the others were gone, Ardyn leaned back on the chair like it was a throne, and showed his hands as if saying ‘So?’ before putting them down onto the arms again. “What is it, Ravus? Is our poor sick giving troubles?”

Even though he disliked to be any closer to him, he could not let any ear eavesdrop on them, whether accidentally or on purpose, so Ravus got closer until he was standing at a side of the chair, and he leaned down for his mouth to be as close as possible to Ardyn’s ear but trying not to be too much in contact with anything from this Wizard, hair included.   
“Caleo is getting foolish ideas” Ravus whispered to him. “He’s thinking of gathering a small group of trained people to go hunt your beast down to retrieve Ignis from the Citadel” he continued to inform, before his fingers, by instinct, wrapped around the grip of his sword. “I am to kill him tonight.”  
Ardyn blinked as if surprised, but said nothing at first. Until he thought about it.  
“Now, Ravus, isn’t that a bit too aggressive?” Ardyn asked him lowly but not whispering, enough to keep it secret between the two of them. “I believe Caleo is a valuable source in case we need to convince Ignis to come out of the Citadel if things get complicated in there, do you not agree?”  
 _A valuable source to convince Ignis._  
 _Or, said directly, Caleo is a valuable hostage to threaten Ignis if things ‘get complicated’._

Ravus frowned slightly; sure, he despised Caleo, but the way Ardyn thought was disgusting. This was very soft compared to the other wicked things that could come from this man’s head, but even if it was only baiting an ant with sugar just to step on it, Ravus hated to be accomplice to this man’s actions.   
“Then, what do you plan to do?” Ravus whispered, angry. “If we let him live, sooner or later he’s going to speak to his friends and Aranea. Maybe they won’t believe the issue with the curse, but if Caleo asks them, I see no reason they wouldn’t deny helping him” Ravus continued. “Even if they don’t believe him, they will go simply because they have nothing to lose; best to make sure and find nothing than never find out.”  
“Now, don’t be so paranoid on me, Ravus, you make me nervous” Ardyn said calmly and exaggerating the tone and length of the last word as if purring it out or whining it in a mocking way. Ravus said nothing. “I say we let crazy old Caleo live a little longer still.”  
“You’re being exasperatingly careless with this whole issue” Ravus growled at him. “If you don’t murder the Scientia soon, I’ll do it myself.”

Ardyn stayed quiet yet again. He looked at the people, the things, head not moving and only eyes. Suddenly, without calling any attention other than theirs (unintentionally), Aranea walked into the tavern. She looked worn out, and rather sad to say the least. She was not in her armor, which was a sign of something unusual; she was tired and off duty. Ravus did not find that particularly strange that day; she had literally just arrived back in town with her small squad that midday after literal months outside in a hopeless search.

When she walked in and reached somebody else at a table, Ardyn smiled slightly in a way that made him look similar to a feline. The Tenebraean stood at his side, quiet, waiting for instructions because he knew this look in Ardyn and this silence.  
“Crazy old Caleo…” Ardyn muttered more to himself, before turning the head very, very slightly to the direction Ravus was standing at, but keeping the eyes somewhere else. “Ravus, I’m afraid I’m starting to think.”  
“…that’s always dangerous, coming from you” Ravus mumbled. As reaction, instead of anger, Ardyn smiled and blinked.  
“I know” he said as if _content_ with himself. Ravus watched him, careful, attention on him. Ardyn stayed quiet a few moments, before his expression turned unnecessarily dramatic as if exhausted and he let out a much louder ‘Aw’ as if lamenting something. Ravus flinched, taken off guard, and looked around to see if he had called anybody’s attention at the time Ardyn spoke too loudly to be ‘secret’. “Poor Caleo Scientia, indeed. Oh, Scientia father, I could and couldn’t save him at once. Such a tragic, sad case, my…”  
“Ardyn, keep it down” Ravus hissed at him in an altered whisper. “Somebody’s going to-”

“Ah, don’t say more, Ravus, attendant of mine” Ardyn lamented unnecessarily loud again, and when Ravus looked around he spotted people staring at them, which did but panic him. “I understand how heartbreaking it must be for you, to watch poor Caleo Scientia’s…particular and tragic state…” Ardyn moved a hand up to hold Ravus’ face with a hand, pressing lightly at his cheeks and looking at him with exaggerated pity. “I am afraid we have lost poor Caleo, alive but so dead and gone at the same time…”  
“What do you mean, Healer?” a random man asked as he approached them, eyes fixed entirely in Ardyn. Ravus glared at him and was about to tell him off, when Ardyn pressed slightly harder on his cheeks and replied before he could.  
“Don’t you know?” Ardyn asked the man as more people approached him, attentive and curious. “Caleo, the major’s brother who lost his son?”  
There were a couple murmurs here and there, and Ardyn watched with attention, keeping an exaggerated face of pity on. He moved a hand up to his chest and slightly shook the head, as if mourning.  
“Oh, poor Caleo…” Ardyn sighed. “He has gone _mad.”_

He let go of Ravus’ face and so the Tenebraean stood straight back up. He stayed quiet and gave him a confused glance, before subtly looking at the people; they seemed confused and surprised, and shared a lot of murmuring and gossip with each other. He looked back at Ardyn. _What is he planning?_  
“What do you mean, Healer Izunia?” a woman asked, and by that point there were at least five people gathered around, and many others attentive to the conversation from their seats.   
“Oh, it is too tragic, too unbearable for me to share with you all” Ardyn said with a gesture of putting the back of his hand to his forehead in unnecessary drama. Ravus wondered how idiotic the Lucians had to be to buy such a fake spectacle. “It seems like I was able to save Caleo’s body, but his mind…it has gone loose” the people shared a few more murmurs. “It seems like the sorrow and the pain from losing his only son has…literally driven him insane.”  
“As in, mentally ill?” a man from the little crowd asked. “But he seems fine to me. He’s even looking a bit better each day.”  
“That’s the problem, my dear people” Ardyn said. “He _seems_ to be fine, but…his sanity is only…so-so” he said with a gesture of showing the open hand while twisting the wrist. He looked up at his ‘attendant’. “Ravus, what did you say that Caleo told you just today?” Ardyn faked to try to remember. “Oh, yes. The same he told me not long ago. My, I had thought he had just had a nightmare, but it seems he’s very, very serious on it…”

“What does he say?” somebody in the crowd asked, and Ravus felt a bit terrified at how attentive they all were, eyes on Ardyn; this man had the Lucians in his hand and at his feet. It was disgusting and frightening.  
“He says…” Ardyn leaned closer to the people, and they mirrored him. “Now, know that I’m telling you as a warning; poor Caleo has lost the head, and speaks non-sense. You all need to know he’s merely hallucinating, and that we need to treat him as the tragic mentally ill he has become” he lamented, before raising a hand at the time he spoke. “Scientia father has it that…” he paused. “Well. It sounds a little…extravagant. Please do not laugh; it’s an old man’s mental sanity we’re speaking” Ardyn continued to tease them. “Caleo has it that…his son ended up prisoner in the abandoned castle north of here” there was great confusion among the people and Ravus did not blame them; they ‘knew’ the castle had been abandoned for _centuries_. That fact on its own made no sense to any of them. And then there was the rest, that Ardyn, of course, did not hide. “And, listen here: he has it that there’s a speaking beast guarding young Ignis. In a cell and everything. Not like the guarding dog, as the _jailer!”_

There was a raise of murmuring among the people. The ones that were listening from afar started speaking about it as well. Ravus kept an ear up on the people and heard the comments, some repeating the words as a question, and some ‘Caleo’s gone crazy’, ‘I told you he was insane’, ‘Is that true? Poor Caleo, he lost the head’. People were buying this bullshit. Ardyn was going too far, he was not hiding the information from them.  
“And, listen here” Ardyn called the attention again, “Caleo has it that the castle is not only guarded by a talking beast that has Ignis locked in a cell…he also says there’s magic living furniture! That speak and move and all!”  
Ravus widened the eyes and stopped breathing, watching the Wizard; this had gone way, way too far. His first impulse was to take the sword out and murder Ardyn, but he remembered he could not die and they were in public, so he froze and tensed. 

What was happening? Ardyn tasked him with the only literal duty of murdering Caleo if the man spoke of what was in the Citadel, Ardyn had blackmailed him for a year now into not saying a single thing and keeping it as the biggest secret in life, and now it was Ardyn himself revealing everything?   
“He says so?”  
“Is he serious?”  
“Healer Izunia, that can’t be true!”  
The people continued to murmur and share opinions among themselves, before one of them asked Ardyn how that had happened. The Wizard proceeded to explain to them on how the trauma had left Caleo hallucinating until driving him insane.   
“And you can’t fix that, Healer Izunia?” somebody asked.  
“I am afraid I’ve tried, but there seems to be no answer” he said with exaggerated pity again, before using a hand to point at the Tenebraean. “I’ve had to ask Ravus here to look after him for the rest of his life now because…poor Caleo has no answer. He has gone mentally ill” said that he looked at everyone with big eyes. “I’m telling you because so we can be careful from now on with what he tells us; tell him yes, yes, but know it’s no, no, and only in his head” he pointed at his own temple and smiled. “We need to treat him like it’s needed. Like a…super imaginative child.”

There were even more and more murmurs. Many were surprise but not disbelief, still hesitating. It sounded ridiculous and could not be, but it was Healer Izunia who was telling them so. The most admired man of town, the man everybody wanted to be…it had to be true.  
Ravus was not sure if it was good or bad, but Caleo had the poorest of timings in the world, and happened to walk into the tavern at that very same moment.   
“Ah, Caleo!” Ardyn greeted while opening the arms, loud enough for everyone to hear. And hence, for everyone to turn their attention to said man. Scientia father stopped in his way and froze, looking at everyone a bit frightened, not having expected all these pairs of eyes on him when he had just come in looking for Aranea. The Wizard did not even stand from his chair and only gestured as he spoke. “I tried telling them, but they didn’t believe me” he defended himself and proceeded to grin at the man by the door. “So why don’t you tell us yourself, where is your son?”  
“U-uh?” Ravus could not help but compare Caleo to a terrified cat not knowing where too run, too scared to move, with the look on his face. “I-I…I cannot…”  
“Trapped in the Citadel?” a man asked with a little grin of mockery.  
“With a speaking beast?”  
“And talking furniture?”  
“Is that true, Caleo?” 

He was bombarded by some of similar questions, and he looked at everyone a bit terrified. He looked at Ardyn as if desperately asking why he had told them, at which the Healer merely shrugged as if saying ‘not my fault, I’m sorry’.  
“So, is that true, Caleo?” was the last question that outstood from the rest, and then everyone stayed completely quiet, eyes fixed fully on the inventor, who stayed quiet and frozen in there. He hesitated and seemed to not know what to do for quite a while. Ravus glanced as well, not knowing what he hoped that this man said.   
“….b-but it’s true!” Caleo ended up admitting, hands gesturing at times in the air and desperation quickly building inside him. “It’s- I know how it sounds, and I- please, nobody say anything about it, the beast threatened me that if I-”  
“The beast _threatened_ you?” somebody asked among laughter, and caused others to laugh as well; finally, mockery had replaced shock and disbelief. “It spoke?”  
“I can speak! And it made me promise that I-”  
“And it also makes deals!”  
“But it’s true!”

There were people laughing at many spots of the tavern, and some others that stayed quiet and watched him with pity, Aranea herself included. Caleo continued to explain everything, all that he had kept bottled up exploding all at once, as he described the castle, the furniture, the beast itself, the cell where Ignis was, and how he ended up there. Nobody let him finish a sentence without breaking into laughter, into sighs of exasperation, shakes of the head of disbelief.  
“I _swear_ it’s as it sounds, you don’t have to- we shouldn’t be-“ Caleo continued not knowing who to direct his words to.   
“Now, now, everyone be quiet” Ardyn requested and everyone obeyed. “We should let Caleo speak. Perhaps he has a point?”  
“…listen, I _know_ how it sounds” Caleo said after he had taken a breath to calm down, even though he still looked very frightened as he spoke. “I know. It’s ridiculous, and I know magic doesn’t work like that, and I know it sounds like a fairy tale. But please, _please_ believe me when I tell you that it’s all _true”_ he continued, and when he heard a few low murmurs, he raised a bit the voice. “I-I hadn’t meant- I was keeping it a secret, but now that you all know, I was thinking…maybe if we join forces, if you all come to see the castle, you’ll see it by yourselves, everything; the furniture, the beast, Ignis locked in there.”  
“Caleo, we’re telling you” a woman said after a few moments; “Ignis is not in the castle. You must have had hallucinated, perhaps it was a very lucid dream that you had.”  
“I’m telling you it’s _true”_ Caleo insisted. “Ignis is prisoner in the castle. There’s a talking beast who’s guarding him. A-and it’s full of that magic furniture! Prom- Pom…Prompto, the candelabra! And this coat rack Crow, or what was her name? A-and…” he shook the head. “That’s not the point. Point is, the castle is not as we all thought; it’s not abandoned. It’s full of life, and it’s guarding a beast, and it’s huge and it has horns and it has claws and it’s brown and it’s guarding my son in there. And he needs our help.”

Everyone stayed quiet after that. There were a few ‘Loony’ and ‘Crazy’ murmurs here and there, too low but still perceptible. Caleo looked around like a lost kid at the edge of crying. Some moments into the silence, Ardyn turned to look at Aranea, at quite some distance from there, still watching with sad eyes.  
“Aranea” he called. “Miss Aranea, I do believe you are back from a search mission” he said. “Did you, perhaps, visit the castle?”  
There was silence. Everyone turned their attention to Aranea, Caleo included. She looked at him long and with sadness, eyebrows furrowed, before looking again at Ardyn.  
“Yes…we did” she said lowly, but loud enough for everyone to hear. She looked like any other word could put her in tears, whether exhaustion or sadness, Ravus could not tell.  
“And did you, perhaps, saw any of this that Caleo speaks about?” the Healer asked and raised lightly an eyebrow. “The furniture, the beast?”  
The silence was even more intense than the last one. It was almost like whatever Aranea said was a decision rather than a statement. Like it all depended on her.

She continued to look at Caleo with that sad look on her face. She looked almost apologetic. Scientia father looked at her with hope, if still terrified. She exhaled softly at the time she looked away from him.  
“We suspected greatly from the castle” she said. “So we reviewed it. Three times. But…but there was nothing there” she lifted the head and looked at Caleo again, as if confused. “No human signs of life, and no…no animals either.”  
“And the furniture, my lady?” Ardyn asked and his question provoked a few muffled laughter here and there at the way it sounded as if that was a major concern.  
“…it’s…just furniture” she said a bit more lowly, but still loud enough for everyone to hear. “It’s just furniture.”

Once said that, everyone turned to look at Caleo and stayed in deep, dead silence. He stayed completely frozen looking at Aranea as if she was a particularly huge and terrifying daemon. Ravus could have sworn the man had gone so pale he could have become transparent. A few moments into the deep silence, Caleo made eye contact with a few people, with speedy eyes that had no idea where to land, before he started shaking the head.   
“No” he whispered and continued to look around. “No. No. I…I’m sure that I…”  
He continued to mutter a few ‘No’s here and there.  
“My…” Ardyn lamented, looking at him with pity as he moved a bit in his chair. “Caleo. It’s alright” the Healer smiled at him with faked and dark kindness. “We’re not going to judge you no matter your state.”  
No matter your state.   
Like he had gone…  
 _’…does everyone here think that I’m…_

“No” Caleo murmured again in an exhale. “No, I’m not- this is not-“ he paused to breathe, staring at the floor and around as if trying to find an answer there. “I’m not…crazy, I know what I’ve…” he tried to look around for a helping hand, for someone that could stand at his side. But the people he made eye contact with either stared away with apologetic looks or laughed while ignoring him as well. “I _know_ what I saw, they must have…maybe they all hid or moved somewhere else, b-but…” he continued to look around before he grabbed a man from the overcoat and forced him to look at him. “You _have_ to believe me, I’m not insane, I’m not- I’m _sure_ of what I saw, I had bruises that lasted _weeks_ ” the man forced Caleo’s hands off him, muttered an insult and left. Scientia father, still desperate, reached to grab somebody else as if only to retake the conversation. “How do you think I returned here!? It was a carriage, I swear that I-” yet another person who shoved him away to leave. He grabbed a woman by the arm and tried to make her listen. “Why do you think Nox, our mare, is not here? I was so sick I wouldn’t have made it back home on feet, it was the carriage, it was-”

People continued to get his hands off them, to bump into him sometimes on purpose, and they started muttering things at the time some laughed. Ravus watched, not knowing how to feel; this was frightening for some reason, to have turned a healthy and suffering man into…a crazy maniac. Caleo was being humiliated in a strange way that did not feel like an attack at all; this was not people calling him names for fun, this was the people really believing the names they called him. Which was wicked, considering Caleo was perfectly fine in the head. The Tenebraean looked down at Ardyn and watched him look at the scene almost with pleasure, but nothing that surprised him at all.   
“If you don’t believe me, let’s go to the castle so you see by yourselves!” Caleo was offering, and Ravus put a hand to the grip of his sword. Ardyn put a hand on him as a gesture of keeping it calm, so the younger man simply watched. “We can- if we make a small squad, or on the contrary if we go as a big brigade, and then we- we could have a chance to defeat the beast, it’s a danger to my son and it’s a danger to everyone” he continued to say to everyone and no one at all at the same time. “You don’t have to believe me if you don’t want to, but it makes no harm to go see, right?”  
“Captain Highwind already did that” a man reminded him loud enough for everyone to hear. “Three times. Aren’t you listening? We’ll find the same than her: nothing.”

“B-but I…” Caleo started before turning to look at her. “Aranea, you can’t be serious. I know what I saw. When I went there, the furniture were trying to hide and would’ve succeeded hadn’t it been because I was sick and a very kind candelabra…”  
“Caleo, just leave it” a man said and started leaving, shaking the head, muttering a small ‘lunatic’ as he did. Scientia father looked at him before turning to her with tearful eyes.   
“Aranea…” he called with the voice as a thread. “…Aranea…I _know_ he’s there. He gave his freedom for _me”_ at this point, he let the tears fall down from his eyes, and his body had untensed. “…Aranea… _please_ …”  
The woman looked at him carefully and attentive, still with that expression of surprise and some pain. Ravus, who still watched the scene, wondered if perhaps that expression could really be pain; as close to Ignis as she had been (or still was, Ravus did not know), it was no wonder she was particularly fond of Caleo or at least knew him well, had befriended him, and hence the fake idea that looked so _real_ that Caleo had literally and medically gone insane due to losing Ignis must make her greatly sad for him. 

She continued to look at him until her eyes drowned in tears as well, before she approached him and shook the head softly but firmly.   
“Mister Scientia” she called lowly, “there’s nothing in the castle. We were fourteen, we looked in every single room; if anything had been there…”  
“…but I’m _sure”_ he whispered, eyes going down. “I’m not…I’m not crazy, you have to…you have to…”  
There was a pause in which she looked at him and fought not to cry.  
“Gosh, Caleo, it disturbs me to see you so down in the dumps” Ardyn interrupted their silence and stood up from the chair, approaching the man as he spoke. “Let’s not get overwhelmed, alright? It does no good to your health. This event has been an unfortunate misunderstanding, but it’s over” once close to Caleo, he gently, far too gently for a thing that was a disgusting evil daemon, wrapped an arm around Scientia father and supported him with both, very carefully, like he was made of porcelain, and started walking, completely ignoring Aranea like she was a wall, taking Caleo with him towards the main door. Ravus followed behind. “What do you say we go home and you rest for the night, Caleo? There, you’re trembling. It’s all okay. You don’t have to feel ashamed.”  
“W-why did you…tell them, Healer Izunia?” Caleo asked him with a small sniff, staring away and using a hand to clean his eyes, clearly embarrassed. “I-I told you the beast warned me not to tell anyone or he would…”

“Oh, I know what it told you, you told me yourself” Ardyn told him as they reached the door and exited. “I told them so we could get some support, but they misunderstood me completely” he said with a small shake of the head and faked surprise. “A misfortunate turn of events, I’m afraid. But my intentions were all good” he nodded the head at Caleo as he spoke, paused lightly, and stopped walking, looking at the much smaller man he was half-hugging. “But worry not, I’ll make sure they understand you’re fine and telling the truth, okay?”  
“I am not crazy” Caleo stated and, while firm, it was still a bit trembling, like a child standing up for himself; brave, but still with fear.   
“I know you’re not, Caleo” Ardyn told him with some slightly exaggerated gestures which completely expressed Ardyn was treating him like he was particularly dumb. “Let’s now stop thinking about all this; it’s been too much for you for today” he let go of Caleo and turned to face Ravus, making Scientia father look at him as well. “Ravus here will go with you in a moment to see you to bed, alright? Don’t forget to have your medicines, Caleo.”

Scientia father still seemed to have things to say, but as those last words sounded as firm if sung goodbye, he did not gather the courage to continue talking. He looked at them before his eyes went straight down to the ground, he turned around, hesitated, and started leaving towards his house. Once he was many steps away, Ravus approached the Wizard and stood at his side, not looking at him.  
“What exactly have you done?” Ravus said as if nagging, but keeping it low not to call the attention. “You’ve literally told _everyone_ the only thing you’ve been desperately keeping a secret for five years. You just told everyone the only thing I was supposed to kill for not to be revealed.”  
“Was it not brilliant?” Ardyn asked him, calmly and smiling that feline-like smile of his.  
“Tell me the purpose of it” Ravus ordered and the once Chancellor gave him a sarcastic smile.

There was a pause before Ardyn started calmly pacing around, slowly, as he spoke.  
“Ravus, it’s simple” he started, “nobody follows a mentally ill.”  
“Except he’s _not_ mentally ill” Ravus said, crossing the arms. He had understood Ardyn’s point ever since back at the tavern, but there was something about the Wizard that made Ravus want to argue him back all the time, even when he agreed with Ardyn. Like not offering a fight first was equivalent of starting to subdue to him.   
“Ah, but that’s something nobody knows” Ardyn said maliciously, stopping again at his side and offering one of his wicked smiles. “If you want a lie to become a truth, you must recite it a thousand times” as he spoke, he gestured with the hands as if purring poetry, “if you want a truth to become a lie, make it be told from the mouth of an unwanted and unloved man” he looked again at Ravus and smiled. “If the whole town laughs at one man, and the one man says something, nobody will listen and nobody will attend to his petitions, simply out of fear of joining him into the public humiliation and the ‘What will they say’. It’s as simple.”

There was a silence. Ravus only looked at him, not wanting to seem weak if he stared anywhere else.  
“Tell a truth and make it sound ridiculous” Ravus murmured, “and everyone will think it’s a lie.”  
Ardyn nodded at him, with that pleased look upon his face.  
“Dismissed, rejected, publicly humiliated” the Wizard recited with fake drama. “Nobody wants to follow a loony old man like that” he grinned. “People fear being laughed at more than they fear any beast in a castle.”

Ravus said nothing. For once, he did not argue that back. He looked at Ardyn with disgusted respect.   
“…I see” Ravus muttered. “Another ace up the sleeve. Like always” he said because he would in no way ever compliment this man or say anything that could be taken as so.  
“Oh, yes, I’m endlessly, wildly resourceful, you’d be amazed by the beautiful plans in my head” Ardyn told him with a mischievous grin, making Ravus’ words a compliment anyway. Ravus looked away; he’d rather put his own head into a behemoth’s mouth than get a peek into this thing’s head. “Who can come up with these endless refrains as I do?”  
“You mean who can persecute harmless crackpots as you do” Ravus corrected him, almost as a chide.  
“Come now, Ravus” Ardyn said with a grin, opening the arms. “Are you going to tell me this is wrong? Are you feeling regretful?”

Silence yet again, in which the Tenebraean looked at the Wizard, then at the direction where Caleo had left through. He looked at the relatively empty streets and thought as he did.  
“I won’t even be mildly remorseful” he stated, “so long I get what I want in the end.”  
“So long you get what _I_ want in the end” Ardyn corrected him, not stopping to smile. Ravus side-glanced at him, quiet, and receiving the threat. Ardyn widened his grin. “Why don’t you go check on poor loony old man Caleo, Ravus? He must feel so isolated.”  
“I insist it would have been much easier to just murder the Scientia” Ravus said. “I wouldn’t be this old man’s nanny.”  
“My, are you tired of your job, Ravus?”  
“I swear to the Astrals” Ravus glared at him, “if I lose my patience with him, I will murder him whether you want so or not, and I will say it was suicide.”  
“You’re an intimidating specimen, Ravus” Ardyn said with his always-half-sarcastic way of speaking.   
“Man” Ravus stated. “I am a man” he glared more intensely at the Wizard. “And I am a _king.”_  
“My, what a guy” Ardyn put his hands to his heart, sarcastically. “There’s no one in town like you, Ravus. A king. What a guy, indeed.”

Ravus paid no attention to his sarcasm and only glared a last time before he started heading straight towards the Scientia’s home. Ardyn watched him as he left, chuckling at the gesture of the Tenebraean of never once looking back even when he was out of sight range. The Wizard, adjusting his hat a last time, re-entered the tavern.

When he did and once he got to his usual chair, people started approaching him again. There were still conversations about Caleo, gossiping, exchanging laughter and nicknames for the ‘loony inventor that’s lost the few screws he had left in the head.’   
“We know you did your best for him, Healer Izunia” the young woman from before told him as she retook her spot at the arm of the chair. He looked at her and smiled. “It’s not your fault he has no repair.”  
“Yeah, you’ve always healed _everyone_ in town” a man cheered. “You are a blessing to us!”  
“You’re everyone’s favorite man, Healer Izunia” another woman joined in.   
“Everyone’s awed and inspired by you, Healer Izunia” a younger man said, sitting nearby.   
“Now, now” Ardyn said with a pleased smirk and a poorly faked humble look on his face, hands gesturing as if asking silence. “You are all just _too_ kind…”

And so, the Wizard snuggled into his chair, prepared for a few more hours of people comforting him, reassuring him, looking after him and trying to cheer him up. Spoiling him with attention, entertaining him with jokes or, as Ardyn called it, this people’s great stupidity.

 

Ravus did not take long to get to the Scientia’s house, and found the door, as usual, unlocked. It was surprising how Caleo had made it alive all these years; the man was a naïve klutz. Ravus welcomed himself inside and made his way upstairs, uncomfortable and still thinking of the event at the tavern, the way Ardyn had revealed all truth to everyone. Maybe not _all_ , but he had not lied in anything. It was strange, that people knew the truth and still were a hundred percent sure it was a lie. 

His thoughts were stopped when he walked into Caleo’s room, not hard to spot as the door was open. The man was sat at the bed, staring down, but looked up when the Tenebraean appeared at the doorframe. Caleo looked at him with surprised and slightly red eyes from previous crying, even though he had long stopped.   
“Ravus” Caleo called in a whisper, and his eyebrows furrowed in sadness again. “Ravus, I swear I’m not lying.”  
The silver-haired did not reply. He looked at Caleo and, ever since the first glance, he felt that sudden flame of hatred burn inside him. When he saw Caleo’s red, sad eyes, it only did but anger him further the usual, and so Ravus glared at him, not subtle.   
“Today I was telling you the possibility that I knew where he was, and it’s _this”_ Caleo said, staring down again and shaking the head. “They can’t think I’m crazy. I’m not insane, Ravus, I know what I saw, I know what I lived. It was not a dream, it was not…” he interrupted himself to pause, as if not knowing where to lead his words. “Ravus, they cannot _not_ believe me. It’s true.”

Ravus still did not reply. He continued to glare and it frustrated him to feel this much anger; had Caleo done anything to him, he would have understood where all this hatred came from, but this had no explanation. This much disgust for a man, that only watching him made him want to throw up…why did Caleo make him as angered as this?   
“If you could…Ravus, I’m sure that if we convinced them somehow…”  
There it was again, like the man had been doing for all this time, treating the situation with a ‘We’ and not an ‘I’. Like they were a team, like Ravus was on his side. It did but anger the Tenebraean even more and tense in his place.  
“I don’t care if they think I’m crazy, I just don’t want them to not believe this” Caleo continued and stood up from his bed, and walked closer to Ravus. “I don’t care what they think of me, I just want them to help rescue Ignis” he said and stopped in front of Ravus, looking up at him with gleamy and innocent eyes. “We need to do something for Ignis, we can’t leave him there, alone with that monster” he said and moved a hand up to touch Ravus’ arm. “If people could believe-”

“Why do you just not accept you are a bloody psycho!?” Ravus snapped at him in a yell, the fire inside him finally exploding. “Why do you insist we believe in your non-sense!?” Ravus screamed at him, almost hovering over him at the very noticeable height difference, and the way Caleo himself seemed to shrug in fear, like a scared turtle, without taking his eyes off the Tenebraean. “The castle? A talking beast? Living furniture!?” he continued to ask, and he took a step closer to the older man, who stepped back by reflex, trembling and only becoming smaller, tiny in front of Ravus. “There is no castle!” Ravus took another step towards him. “There is no beast!” he took another step that Caleo stepped back, until his back hit the wall. “And there is no fucking magical furniture!”

Once screamed that, Caleo’s instinct was to shrug even smaller, his whole body trembling and eyes unable to get off Ravus’ uneven ones.   
“You think you suffer because you’ve been away of him four months? Try waiting for _five years!”_ Ravus continued yelling at him. Ravus did not think as he continued to yell, louder and louder at the man. “You want to help Ignis but you don’t notice he’s fine on his own; if anything, the only bloody thing that has always given him troubles, the only thing that has always put him to risk, and the only thing that has ever been an obstacle to him has always been _you!”_ he put emphasis on the last word. “So stop pretending we can do anything about all this because we _can’t!”_ Ravus yelled and, at the last word, he threw the fist to the wall, which caused Caleo to quietly whimper and, by reflex, put the arms up to hide his face behind. “You’ve been whining for a bloody month of how miserable you are and how you will rescue Ignis, but I have news for you; this is life, an insufferable pit of misery that could maybe be a bit more bearable if you shut your goddamn mouth” he paused only to lean down closer to Caleo, who shrugged even smaller behind his arms, “grow out of it and accept it for once; your son is _gone!”_

There was a pause in which all that Ravus did was to breathe and look at the trembling man he had pinned against a wall. He watched him tremble and hide in front of him, and it made him so angered he could almost taste inexistent vomit in his tongue. Ravus retrieved his hand from the wall like it had gotten stuck there, like a sword into wood.   
He still looked at Caleo some moments before stepping away of him, giving him his back; if he looked at this man for any longer, his head would throb so hard in anger it would explode. A few moments later he turned again to look at the grey-and-brown-haired, almost as if expecting any answer. Caleo had put the arms down, un-shielding himself. He was staring down at the ground, and his body untensed. Ravus watched him in silence, the way he was still trembling but did not look tense anymore.   
And then he saw Caleo starting to cry. 

The Tenebraean frowned again at the sight. The inventor dropped a pair of tears to the floor before his hands moved up to rub at his eyes. He sniffled quietly and continued to clean tears, putting the arms down as if done. But he continued. He opened the mouth to take in a trembling breath, staring away. Ravus stared away again, angered, crossing the arms.   
_’This man can’t get more pathetic…’_  
Caleo continued to cry and used the hands to clean his eyes again. The sight and the way he moved reminded Ravus of a little kid that just lost his favorite toy or pet. The silver-haired frowned more at the sight and felt the fire inside him continue to burn.  
And then it pinched his lungs.   
Or so he guessed it was the lungs. Which other organ was there in the chest that could ache like that?   
It made him uncomfortable. Caleo crying made him both exasperated and uncomfortable. He saw the man nod at him for whatever reason, still trying to stop the tears. Ravus’ hands softened on the grip of his own arms, crossed as he had them, and closed the eyes to count inside his head to calm down. This man had just gone through a day of emotional breakdown, all town thinking he was mentally ill and laughing at him, not taking him seriously, and then this, Ravus’ outburst at him. If Ravus did not do anything, the man’s heart would break again and he could literally die. Ardyn wanted him alive; that this man lived or not could affect the process of rescuing Luna, so Ravus had to do something to stop his tears.

He thought about it for a moment, eyes still closed. Caleo still cleaned his tears and had started to sob, but fought hard not to break down right then and there, at least not harder. He kept his crying mostly silent, but tears still escaped him. Ravus watched him a few moments before staring away.  
“Ignis is alive.”

There was a different kind of silence from the one only before those words. It was a little more tense, in an ambiguous way. Caleo still sniffled but had taken in a tiny gasp. His face was still soaked with tears, but his hands had stopped their attempts of cleaning it. He kept the eyes, wide and shocked, on Ravus. The silver-haired looked as if he had not said anything and only frowned at the wall. It took some more moments before Ravus looked at him again, still frowning.   
“You are aware of that fact” Ravus stated firmly but the voice rather low, to not sound frightening to the other, “aren’t you?”

Yet another silence. Caleo could only watch the younger man with wide eyes that continued to water. It took Ravus all his might to control himself and not explode at this man, but the sight of him crying was driving him crazy in anger. Scientia father still took some moments before staring away, as if startled and not knowing what to say. Some moments later he stood still again, doing nothing, and put the head down. A little later, he nodded.   
_’Good’_.

If it was him, Ravus guessed, he too would like to know if Lunafreya was alright. He would calm down if somebody could tell him that. So he would chop heads off if this did not work the same on Caleo.   
He did not need to unsheathe his sword that night; it had worked fine, and Scientia father continued to calm down, each second more. He did not question Ravus on anything; while the Tenebraean had stated it as a fact, he was aware that maybe the man had taken it only as words of encouragement, as some way of thinking that was what Ravus firmly believed rather than _knew._ But that was something he could not tell to the older man, or he would get stupid ideas again. However, Caleo did not say anything and did not show extra confidence or excitement. The way he smiled among tears and nodded again looked both happy and sad. It looked…somehow grateful.   
And Ravus hated it. 

He controlled himself and stood there, quiet, arms still crossed.   
“Go sleep now” Ravus commanded him rather bitterly, but Caleo did not show to take it for bad. On the opposite, he smiled yet again and gave him a grateful glance, that Ravus avoided. Scientia father only did as told in complete silence, too overwhelmed from the day of emotions going up and down inside him, and reached for his closet. When he started taking off his overcoat, Ravus stared away, uncomfortable and impatient. He stood there until the noises shut and he was sure Caleo had already dressed for sleep, and turned only then to watch the man go to bed. The grey haired stopped at a side of his bed and looked at Ravus, a hand going up to clean one of his still red and teary eyes. He looked almost as if expecting something. “What?” Ravus asked, frowning deeper. “I won’t tuck you in. You should also know I do not have all the time of the world.”

Caleo blinked and looked at him with those stupidly naïve eyes of his. No matter how bad Ravus treated him, the man still did not seem to mind or to get angered in any moment. Even then, the only thing he did was to gift Ravus a smile and a nod, and those grateful eyes that made Ravus so angry. The Tenebraean had to hold the breath not to reach for this man to kill him; his innocence and the way he could not get angry at anybody, the way he let himself be mistreated, it drove Ravus crazy. Caleo was not worth being called a man. Useless, pathetic, and so miserable. Ravus watched him turn the lights off, return to bed, and pull the sheets down to get in and pull them back up. He still sniffled at times. 

Ravus stayed there until Caleo’s tears stopped and put him to sleep. 

After that, late enough in the night, Ravus exited the bedroom and looked at the stairs that led to the attic-turned-bedroom. Caleo had offered him many times before to use Ignis’ bedroom, instead of coming and going all the time from his own house to the Scientia’s. Ravus, for the first time, considered it for a moment. Immediately, he brushed the idea off and went downstairs. He had his own room, thank you very much.   
Not to say he had close to no desire of spending the night in the same place than this man. 

All this hatred Caleo woke in him, all these things he made him feel inside…why? 

Too exasperated to try to continue figuring the answer, Ravus merely exited the house and left. Caleo tagged as mentally ill and ridiculed, Ardyn strutting and bragging being celebrated by everyone, and himself angered enough for one day, Ravus could but direct his thoughts to Lunafreya, always a bittersweet peace of the mind. He hated how impossible it was not to think about her when the moon was always in the night sky, even when fully dark. He wondered if she was alright. If still blindly devoted to the Lucis Caelum. If she had not forgotten about him. If she thought about him sometimes. 

_Wait for me, Lunafreya. I will see to saving you. Let us be patient for a little more; only for a little more, we must continue to wait. But know I’m on my way. Must I murder a father, must I murder a son, must I become ally to the worst man in town, I shall, so long I can get to you. We only need to wait a little more; wait for the last of the petals to fall._

Ravus continued his way through the streets of Norther Insomnia, prepared to rest.

Unaware that, previously that very same evening, the sixth petal had already fallen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caught the references? 
> 
> Also, an apology for taking extra long here: things got complicated IRL and I had to take a week off writing. Also apologies for extra long chapter. 
> 
> Still, I hope you're enjoying so far :)
> 
> Let me know what you think?


	20. The Sixth Petal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do suck at keeping things short, but look at the bright side! You're an amazing reader that's gotten incredibly far. Whoever has made it to this point, I'm proud of you for reading so much! :)
> 
> And also very grateful. Thank you for staying here!
> 
> Apologies for the delay. I hope you enjoy; I certainly did.

The day that it happened, Ignis was in the library. 

Taking a break day from his new activity of fixing the gardens and not wanting to replace that with his other activity of cleaning random rooms of the Citadel, Ignis had spent the day walking around and had finally come to end up organizing the books in his room; on a side, the ones he had already read, and on the other side, the ones he had not. He decided to take the ones he had already read back to the library, see if perhaps he could dig out something new. He could have asked Nyx, whom he had started to befriend as he was his usual guard, to take the books to the library, but Ignis could and wanted to do it himself, for the sake of entertaining himself a little. Not having obligations drove him crazy, he needed to occupy the hands in something in almost every moment. 

Unfortunately for Ignis, that same day was when the furniture friends all started finally questioning him about the past week or so about the…odd treatment between man and beast, that ended up erupting the previous day. Ignis had first tried to brush it off with a cliché “I don’t know what you’re talking about”. He was pretty much stubborn and hard to break through his composure and patience, so he had had no troubles on shrugging it off as if he had no idea what the furniture talked about, even when he knew none of them believed it, and kept his mouth entirely shut, ears deaf to that matter, and very patiently ignored them despite having had Noctis pulling from his eyelids while the man tried to sleep the previous night, the furious clock whining on him that ‘I am just curious, okay!?’. Needless to say, it had not worked for Noctis. But, finally, more than breaking through his patience, Ignis himself was in the need of talking it out.

It was confusing. The previous day, he had been at the library talking poetry with the beast, and had not minded it. He had… _enjoyed_ of it, if it was possible. And later that night, he had had dinner with Gladiolus completely different than usual; this was not in silence. It was not just a night of uncomfortably eating nearby him and nagging him from time to time; the nagging was there, but, for once, Ignis had not felt _so_ uncomfortable. They had had a nice conversation that helped him stop focusing so much in the way the beast ate, ignore it, not give it a second thought. And that was the most confusing part, that the conversation had been nice enough to distract him from the usual discomfort of the sight. 

Having a pleasant conversation…Ignis had never been prisoner before (not in a literal way, at least), but he was pretty sure that this was not the kind of relationship one should have with the captor. The hatred, the insults, all the glares and the aggression, where were all those things? Back at the beginning of his captivity, that’s where. And what did he have now? Strolls through the garden, a shy beast over-reacting at the idea of hurting him, poetry conversations, comfortable dinner. This was odd, not okay, and Ignis did not like the pace this was taking. He had had a very, dramatically poor social life, so this was uncomfortable and rather…scary, in many ways. He was not sure he could handle how fast and well and _naturally_ ’this’ was developing. 

Then again, what exactly was _’this’?_

Ignis had very poor social experience. He tended to be ridiculously busy most of the time to ever have a moment to himself, let alone for other people. Not only had he had no chances of improving some social skills, he had not had chances to even try to develop some. The only people he could tag as friends had to be Cindy and Aranea. That he had befriended Cindy had been unavoidable; it was common that Caleo sent his son to the workshop to repair tools or to get stuff. Cid, the owner, was often busy sat there sipping from a mug, so Ignis had no option but to go with his granddaughter. The constant visiting eventually turned into a friendship. It had not been either of them approaching each other on free will, it was simply…an unavoidable interaction. That it developed into friendship had been a good bonus, not an expected goal.

Aranea had been a slightly different case. Ignis remembered to have asked her to train him at some point at age seventeen when he felt some _void_. He still remembered the sensation; one day he woke up feeling a…void inside. Not an empty space, because that would have meant he had he could fill that with anything else. No, it was a _void_. Something specific was missing inside him, but he could never (not even to his present) name it. He had felt the need of battling daemons to protect the town he loved, and had requested Aranea (who had arrived to town not long prior to that) to take him as yet another apprentice of hers among the dozens of other women and men. It turned out that Ignis was exceptionally skilled (talent, he supposed, for he did not remember to have ever trained…not with anyone else, at least), far, far, far too skilled.

Of course, that called Aranea’s attention, and she took him as personal student. An excuse, most certainly, for it became clear after a short while that Ignis was at her level, and higher up. Their constant training had unavoidably turned into friendship. Despite the differences, it was yet the same case than Cindy; none of them would reach for the other to hang out at the marketplace or the fields, they simply had some job or task in which they had to inevitably interact very often, which led to friendship.   
Ignis only had two friends, and both had arrived unavoidably. 

So was this situation the same? He _was_ forced to live in the same place than Gladiolus…but it was not a little hut. It was a castle. Both were entirely free to roam in the castle like in a beginning; each in a different place, far away of the other. He was forced to live in the same place than Gladiolus…but he did not have any task or request that required of the two of them working together. They did not have any reason to spend time together. There was literally _nothing_ that forced them to be together. There was not a single excuse.

That they spent time together every now and then had started to be a _choice_. In the past, it had been out of pride, the sort of ‘I was here before’ silent battle. But now, when Gladio sat patiently at the dining room while he cooked, or that the beast sometimes entered the library while Ignis was there, walking together through the gardens, walking together through the ruined gardens, holy Astrals, he asked Gladiolus to stroll with him through the bloody gardens.   
Back when he requested that, he had not thought of the depth or concept of it. It simply felt natural. He did not think about anything but practicality when he asked Gladiolus to show him around. But only once it was all done and gone, he finally noticed what he had done.  
He had asked the creature that he was supposed to be scared of and that he was supposed to avoid to show him around the gardens.

No, no, no. It was all wrong. Things were not meant to be that way. 

Confused and a bit concerned to say the least, Ignis had been thinking about the situation all throughout that day, particularly. He had avoided the beast a little more than usual, and had ignored the furniture as well for most of the day. His head was full and going in circles, and there was nothing in the world he appreciated more than some time alone, especially when he was like this. Locking himself in his mental shelter while his body attended silly tasks to look and keep himself busy and entertained, Ignis had gone most of the day only thinking and trying to figure something out, as if looking for an answer when he could not name the problem, not an exact one. How was it ‘enjoying of Gladiolus’ presence’ a problem? Well, he could see it in many ways to make it a problem. Thing was, so what was the answer? Was there any? _’Are you sure that’s a problem?’_ , and he ended up re-starting his circle of thoughts. 

When it happened, he had finally opened up a little to the furniture friends, while at the library. That is, of course, with a little…motivation from them.

“I still think it’s silly to say you’re still enemies” Prompto was saying while hopping his way behind the human, who was walking through a hallway of the second floor of the library, holding a pile of books in his arms. “You guys talk a lot and you’ve got things in common; I insist you’re friends.”  
“And I still ignore why our relationship status is such a matter of importance to you, Prompto” Ignis replied without looking back at the candelabra, staring at the titles in the shelves to figure which was the rightful place of the book on top of the pile he was carrying. “You’ve been insisting for a while now, even before we…”  
 _Even before we did become friends? No._  
“…even before we started…having dinner together” Ignis decided to phrase so with those words instead, eyes still on the shelves while the candelabra stood at his side.

“Well, you know, I think it’d awesome for you two to get along” Prompto told him, smiling up at him even when the man was not looking at him. “It’d be so weird, dude!”  
“Weird is not exactly synonym of ‘good’, Prompto” Ignis replied at the time he put one of the books of his pile in its place. “Weird often means it’s best to keep your distance.”  
“Uh uh!” the candelabra shook the head to accompany his sounds of negative. “Weird isn’t the same than strange; if it was strange, it would be kind of creepy, but this is just weird, you know, as in, you are kind of like the type of people that Gladio would very much like, and he’s kind of the type of people you’d enjoy being with even if he doesn’t seem like it, as in…”  
Prompto continued with his rant and Ignis just let him, not stopping his search in the shelves for the rightful places of the books he carried. With two left there, he looked at the next title and started walking across the hallway again, with the candelabra happily hopping behind him. 

When Ignis reached the small cart he had taken to carry the books he had taken to return to the library, Prompto climbed up it until he was at a side of Noctis, who had stayed there because he was “too tired to follow you guys around, I’ll wait at the cart, thank you very much”.  
“Don’t you agree, Noct?” Prompto asked his friend as joyfully once finished with his rant, and Ignis made sure not to push the cart too hard so the furniture would not fall on their place.   
“Eh” Noctis shrugged. “I didn’t hear it all, but yeah, Specs” the clock looked up at him, and Ignis only stared back for a second before looking away. “You two are getting along so well you even get stupid in front of each other.”  
“I will pretend I didn’t hear that” Ignis said softly and stopped the cart, taking his pile of books again and starting to walk away into the hallway. Prompto, once with the flames of his candles off, jumped from the cart to get a hold of Ignis’ cloak, and Noctis, curiosity winning over his laziness, climbed off the cart to follow him as well.   
“I don’t know why you’re pretending you’re still enemies with him” Noctis said in his ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ voice, waddling after the human. “You guys seemed to have a lot of fun exploring the gardens together.”

Ignis stopped for half a second at the mention of that moment, how…inappropriately intimate it had been. How _happy_ he had felt. The way he stared at the beast with as much interest as the beast showed in flowers.   
How inappropriate.  
“And you’ve also started having dinner with him” Prompto reminded him as if though Ignis was unaware of that fact, and the man continued to walk avoiding eye contact with them. “Which is…dude! So weird but such a nice thing! Gladio’s so happy about it, you have no idea, you can see it in his eyes.”  
 _Shut it now, shut it now, I know how happy he looks and it makes me feel guilty and uncomfortable and so senselessly sad, why does he look so happy like it’s first time somebody shows him a little sympathy? Am I the first- no, stop, shut it now, Prompto, I know what’s going on, I need no reminder, I need no overthinking on this issue, please, shut it now._  
“And you two also had a bit of a literature conversation” Noctis added. “I always knew you two could be great literature buddies. See, Gladio didn’t believe me, and I always told him to try, but the ass wouldn’t listen.”

“Listen” Ignis said and turned. Prompto had long let himself slide down his cloak to join Noctis on the floor, and now both furniture friends were side by side looking up at the human, who had stopped in his way to look down at them, eyebrows furrowed and confusion all over the expression. “I am aware of my current situation with Gladiolus, and I remember all the things we’ve done, so, please, there is no necessity to remind me.”  
“We’re not reminding you, Specs” Noctis said, shaking the head lightly. “We’re just pointing out that you guys act like friends, because you still refuse to admit you and Gladio _are_ kind of like friends.”  
“I ignore if you’ve ever been a prisoner, Noct” Ignis said and looked back at the shelves, again pretending to be too busy, “but I assure you that the last thing that could happen to you would be befriending your kidnapper.”  
“Kidnapper” Prompto said as if it was a kids game or a silly title.   
“Right, but he doesn’t act like a kidnapper” Noctis said. “He’s acting and trying very hard to be a host to you. And you can’t deny he’s been doing a great job.”

“I mean…” Ignis started saying but stopped as if to think about it. A few moments later, he shook the head softly at the time he took the book on top of the pile and shoved it in its place. “Of course he is doing great, considering the circumstances. But it doesn’t take away the fact that I’m held here against my free will, which is legally considered kidnapping.”  
“Actually, it’s not legally ‘kidnapping’ if the kidnapper isn’t putting a prize to someone else for your freedom” Noctis informed like that was the point at all, smirking and clearly proud of his knowledge. “This is in theory only ‘deprivation of freedom’.”  
“That is most certainly not the point, Noct” Ignis said patiently. “Either way, it is not okay to hold someone against their free will, prize asked or not. And it’s most certainly incorrect befriending your captor.”  
“Are you going to say you haven’t enjoyed of these past days?” Prompto asked him almost as if it was a dare, but also a little afraid of hearing an unexpected answer. 

Ignis stopped his book ordering for a moment, gloved fingertips rubbing on them while his gaze got lost nowhere at all. He blinked to take himself out of his thoughts and confusion, same which had him speaking up to his friends.  
“I…have” he admitted, not looking at them and again pretending to focus on the books. “I have enjoyed of these past days. But enjoying doesn’t mean-”  
“Ugh” Noctis let out a sigh that sounded somewhere between exasperated and exhausted. “But, but, but. You’re so stubborn, Specs.”  
“Yeah” Prompto chimed in, a bit too eagerly. “Just keep it there; you enjoyed, period. No need to excuse yourself.”  
“Yeah” Noctis agreed. “Not like it’s wrong, you know? I think you’re just making yourself miserable on purpose. That your situation isn’t good doesn’t mean you have to make it bad all the time, you know?” the clock sighed and stared away. “But what do I know? Whatever.”

Ignis did not reply. Noctis was…insufferably right. His words had been so few but so concise, and mostly so incredibly…true. It felt wise, despite his sighs and ‘Whatever’ and ‘You know’s. Ignis stood there entirely frozen and feeling like a nagged child, knowing himself wrong and hating the sensation. ‘You make yourself miserable on purpose’.   
It still took a few moments before he contained a sigh that made his shoulders and chest raise and fall, at the time he put the head down to use his fingers to caress the bridge of his nose, moving his glasses during the process.   
“You’re right, Noct” Ignis admitted, staring at them. “I do have good times. It’s not that what I’m denying. What I’m denying is any…friendship between Gladio and I.”  
Saying his name aloud made Ignis senselessly nervous, and had him subtly looking around and towards the main doors, as if fearing to see the beast walk in. He knew it was silly, but he still could not help the sensation.   
“It still looks like friends to me” Prompto continued to insist like all over the day.  
“Yeah, tell me you didn’t enjoy having that literature talk with him” Noctis said with a smile, and Ignis looked again at them. 

“I…of course I did” Ignis said and hated the way his voice went a little bit quieter. He felt stupid and denied tagging this as shyness. And then, maybe due to having kept it locked while it insisted so harshly much on coming out, Ignis simply started talking it, needing of it rather than thinking it through. “He had already surprised me with his knowledge of fluent Tenebraean. And then that conversation on the books he recommended me…” Ignis stared away and felt his face burning, and pleaded to the gods that it was only the sensation and that his cheeks’ color had not changed. “He really has a…good taste for literature. It was incredible; he understood what I talked and I understood what he talked, and…never before had I thought somebody…” and when he felt his face burning harder, Ignis turned a little more not to look at the furniture and mostly not to let them look at him. “I don’t often get the chance…I don’t think I’ve ever, besides once, had had the honor of talking those matters with anyone” and a smile started betraying him. When he realized he could not erase it, he lowered a little the head by reflex. “It was…very, very…gratifying…”

That was one of the things Ignis had been trying to avoid from happening again, triggering any other literature talk with Gladiolus, because it had been excruciatingly _enjoyable._ Ignis could have continued for hours and hours and entire days if Gladiolus offered replies and conversation as he had been doing so far. Ignis did not often, or ever at all, get the chance to talk literature with anybody. Having all that inside himself, all that non-spoken adoration and thoughts and critics and passion for all those things he was constantly reading, and never letting it out…of course he had a lot, quite way too much to speak on the matter. Of course a trigger would have him going for days, and of course it would happen again if he ever let Gladiolus trigger him again, so _of course_ Ignis was trying to avoid it.

The last time he had gotten the opportunity to have a conversation on the matter with someone else, he almost had to deal with…non-desired feelings. It had helped very little that the counterpart was not only a brilliant brain but also visually as beautiful. Ignis had not approached him due to his looks, nonetheless, but rather due to a sensation of…familiarity. Now that he could compare, it was like one of those awful déjà vu that constantly harassed him in the Citadel, but that had been a year prior to this whole event. Since the first time Ignis saw him, he felt that odd attraction for this man, a strange necessity of approaching him, and while he had insisted to himself not to, he could not take the eyes off this man whenever he was close. The mysterious white lone wolf of Northern Insomnia. 

It was not the first time they interacted, but it was the first time proper conversation blossomed. Ignis had been implicitly told to go away, and he had bid goodbye with a quote that simply happened to fit the situation. And then he did not leave, when the man recalled aloud author and book, and added that he had no idea there was a ‘Lucian who enjoys good literature’. Ignis tried not to take too personally the way it sounded as if though the man was denigrating the rest of the Lucians, and did not have a hard time; he got very easily carried away because he had no idea anybody else in all Eos had read that book before, and had not expected this man to catch it. After the shared ‘I had no idea somebody else…’, conversation developed very naturally. Ignis had ended up smiling at the silver-haired, enjoying of conversation, and getting a bit…too much into it. Until digging into odd feelings. 

It was not that the man’s eyes were unevenly colored. It was something about the gaze itself that had Ignis stare away, excuse himself, and take his leave, unable to stop his stomach from roaring inside himself out of something that was not hunger. Ignis had thought the man was made solely of ice and stone, but he had turned out to soften greatly into the conversation. It was obvious he was a hopeless passionate for poetry and literature in general, so Ignis had accidentally melted his barrier of ice and had found the real person behind it. And…while the man only gave slight hints of smiling rather than properly smiling, the aura around him had changed and he was much easier to look at. More than easier, it was…fascinating to see him. He had sharp features, and a beauty very rare to find. When he was not frowning and hating the world, and when he was talking about something he enjoyed, his already beautiful features turned into…real beauty. Not aggressive brute beauty, but rather chiseled one. And Ignis noticed it.

It had been a while since he had broken up with Aranea, and he did not tend to have the time to know his own feelings really well, but he assumed that that was the closest he had ever had to a crush. It washed away a couple weeks later, but Ignis had been taken off-guard back then. He had hoped to only solve whether he knew this man from before or not to get rid of his déjà vu, he had not meant to end up talking literature with him, he did not mean to enjoy so much of it, and of course he did not mean letting something as miserable and tiny as a conversation on books lead to a racing heart, a screaming stomach, and heat in the face. 

He was aware that, while that was impossible to happen with Gladiolus, it still carried the risk of really befriending him. If his heart was so awfully weak to get stupid in front of a man, it could as well give in to the friendship of a beast if Ignis gave it the chance.

“Then again” Ignis woke himself from his thoughts and looked again at the shelves to continue arranging the books, “you two cannot take _one_ small conversation and call it ‘befriending’. Of course I enjoyed of it, I will not deny that, but that means…nothing.”  
“Uh huh” Noctis said as if not buying it.  
“Well” Prompto started and grinned up at Ignis, “but what about dinner? I know you started having dinner with him as a ‘Thank you’ gesture, but it looks like you’re starting to enjoy of it, Ignis. _That_ looks like friendship to me.”  
“That you insist won’t make it true, Prompto” Ignis continued without stopping his task.   
“Come now, Specs” Noctis said with a non-impressed expression. “Tell me you haven’t enjoyed of dinner with Big Guy.”  
“Not particularly.”   
“Hm…” the candelabra hopped one step closer to the human, looking up at him. “You did seem to enjoy whenever he said something about your cooking.”  
“I mean-”

And there it was again, a reaction; Ignis flinched very slightly at that mention, and his hand stopped in between the shelf and himself. He stood there frozen, heart skipping a beat inside his chest, and took a moment before replying.  
“I mean…” he started over, calming himself and still not daring to look at them. “It’s only…” he stopped yet again, and he felt that stupid burning sensation behind the cheeks again, at the time a small smile betrayed him. “…nobody had…enjoyed so sincerely of my cooking before…”  
“He’s in love with your cooking, huh?” Noctis said only to throw wood to the fire now that they had found the trigger.   
“It seems like so” Ignis agreed, smile growing. “At first I was bothered by the noises he did while eating, but then I realized that…he really, really is enjoying of what I cook for him…”  
“He’s always saying nice things about it” Prompto nodded, understanding Noctis’ previous intention.  
“Indeed” the human agreed, and his hand tried to continue the accommodating of books, but stopped again. He turned to look and smile at the furniture friends. “Nobody before…” a small pause. “Well, he _is_ behaving really good with me at dinner, and respects my space when I’m cooking” he turned again to the books and continued arranging them, smiling widely as he did. “He’s always so… _enthusiastic_ about my cooking, it makes me feel like all these years of practice and all the effort I put into it are really so worth it; nobody before had ever praised that from me, it passes as such a daily action that it’s…” Ignis interrupted himself and stopped, and when he realized he was getting overexcited, he moved a hand to his mouth to clear his throat. He waited a few more seconds. “…apologies. I got carried away.”

“See, you’re enjoying your time with him!” Prompto cheered again. “You have to admit he’s a friendly guy, Ignis.”  
“He’s been trying his best to be nice with you” Noctis added with a small nod. Ignis looked at the two of them for a moment, eyebrows very slightly furrowed and smile still on face.  
“…I do admit” he started in almost a murmur, “he’s been behaving amazingly with me” his chest swelled with a breath that he slowly let out through the nose, eyes going down. “…he’s not a bad…creature” his smile grew a bit more widely and he shook the head lightly. “More than not bad. He’s…he’s good” he looked up at the furniture again, looking a little less in distress. “The way he talks, so passionate, about flowers, and how enthusiastic he is with my cooking” he started re-listing, “and he’s been very, very careful to not touch me, and not to cause me any harm. If anything…” he stopped only for a moment to stare down again, as if only now admitting it aloud was realizing it for the first time and it was taking him a few moments to comprehend. “…if anything…he’s been doing the opposite” he stared at the floor a little longer, in complete silence. 

Ignis looked at them a little more before turning his attention again to the shelf, taking a book from the pile in his hands and starting to accommodate it there. Prompto was about to say something, but Ignis was faster.  
“And the way he looks at me as if though…” Ignis’ hand slowly stopped its work as he spoke. The man stared at nowhere at all, events and thoughts rushing through his head. He stayed quiet for a couple of moments, silence only interrupted by the Tick Tack of the clock standing nearby. Ignis very, very slowly started lowering both hand and head, and sadness started invading him, remembering the way the beast tended to behave at times as if though…as if though Ignis was the first creature to ever show him some compassion or sympathy of sorts. Ignis stayed quiet and inside his head a little longer, before he decided to voice that aloud for the furniture friends, so he turned to look at them.

He did not finish the sentence he started.   
When he turned to look at Noctis and Prompto, he first found them still staring up at him only listening, patient. But they suddenly tensed and their expressions transformed into something that could pass as surprise. Yet, they said nothing. Because they could not.  
They were paralyzed.   
Ignis stared at them in complete silence, eyebrows furrowing. Completely confused, he stared at the furniture friends in front of him, paralyzed with that expression of surprise that could almost pass as fear. They looked as if though having gone only one second into the shock before staying completely still and frozen like statues. As if though they had gone lifeless and their bodies stayed with the last expression and pose they could make a second before the sudden death.  
It only lasted a few seconds, but Ignis hated it.

It was probably three seconds, maybe even only two, before both Noctis and Prompto moved again. Just as if time had stopped only for the two of them, they reacted like somebody coming out of the water after waking up under it; confused, looking rather scared, and taking in a deep breath. Both got out of that sudden state of complete paralysis at the same time and seemed to get a little startled after it was gone. Both started looking at their hands and bodies as if making sure they were complete, or if something was missing, or if they were still in their bodies. Ignis stayed completely quiet, not understanding what had just happened or what was exactly going on. The clock and the candelabra continued to look at themselves before looking at each other.   
“Oh no…” Prompto said after a few moments of sharing a glance with the clock.   
“…I don’t mean to be nosy” Ignis said as softly as he managed, going down to a knee in front of them and looking at his friends with concern remarked in the expression, “but it seems like something happened. Is anything wrong?”  
“It’s the curse” Noctis said, looking up at him and seeming rather calm, if still a little startled. “Remember? The rose and the petals and what happens when one of them falls?”

“Ah…of course” Ignis said in almost a murmur. “I had been avoiding the west wing for so long I had almost forgotten…”  
“This sucks” Prompto said with a little sigh. “I hate how it feels. It’s like drowning and you can’t move and only the Astrals choose when to let you breathe again. Brr.”  
“A petal falls and you…” Ignis started recalling again, remembering. He stopped mid-sentence knowing what he was about to say, but found it rude to not continue. “…you turn a little more into…mere furniture.”  
“Like I don’t have enough with the crack on my leg” Noctis said with a tiny demonstration, raising his left little leg and shaking the ‘foot’ slightly, staring at it. As he moved, he frowned again as if in pain and it did not go unseen by Ignis the way the clock struggled a bit with his movements, like his articulations (did they have any?) had gotten rusty and hard. “I hate being all stiffy after a petal falls-”  
“Hey, Noct?” Prompto called as if interrupting. The clock looked at him, and seemed to understand Prompto’s look of concern as soon as their gazes made contact. But Ignis stared with confusion. 

The friends turned to look at him as if about to say something, but the three turned their attention to the staircase when Nyx appeared there, looked in their direction, and lost no time going over to them. He seemed to have eyes only for Noctis when he reached them.  
“Your Maj-” he started saying while looking at the little clock, but then stopped and seemed to hesitate a little. He looked Ignis for a moment before presenting a small bow. “Your…major concern should be exiting as soon as you can” he said a bit slowly as if that was not exactly what he had been about to say, and then he looked again at Noctis. The coat rack seemed to hesitate and have a few troubles, as if trying to say something, but all that he did was to let out a little sigh. “My apologies…” once said that, Nyx leaned down and took the clock in his hands, and Ignis felt a tiny pinch of worry inside, considering Nyx had no fingers and Ignis had no desire for him to accidentally drop Noctis. But the rack did not; as if he had practice with this, he held the clock in hands and started going away, not biding goodbye. Ignis found that a little strange; as formal as Nyx had behaved with him so far, it was odd he was not presenting even a tiny bow of the head. He seemed to be in a rush.

Prompto looked at him again and interrupted him even before he could do or say anything.  
“We should probably go too, Ignis” Prompto told him and the way he sounded serious and a tiny bit scared instead of his usual cheerfulness confused Ignis a little more.   
“Where?”  
“Anywhere out of the library, buddy” the candelabra continued to say and reached closer to Ignis, taking him from the pants and starting to pull from it like that would make him move. “Come on, we can continue ordering the books tomorrow, Specs.”  
“What is the hurry, Prompto?” Ignis asked, not moving from his spot while the candelabra insisted on pulling from his pants. “What’s wrong with-?”  
“Ignis” Prompto called seriously, looking up at him. “It’s no time for this. Just come on, we gotta go to your room.”  
“Why did Nyx take Noctis like that?” Ignis asked and stood up not to move but rather to look down at the low level of the library. By then, he got to see only the moment Nyx was already exiting, clock in hands, and even though it was a fleeting glimpse only, Ignis was pretty sure he could see somebody else outside as if waiting for them, and he grew more confused and curious on why it was priority to take Noctis away like that. If he didn’t know the furniture of the Citadel, he would say this looked like kidnapping instead, what with the hurry. Noctis did not even agree, not aloud.

“Ignis” Prompto called, serious. “Buddy, I’m sorry saying it like this, but it’s not the time to be stubborn” Ignis looked down at the candelabra and blinked, surprised; he knew Prompto was not a child, but to hear him as serious was rather new and it made him feel like something bad was going on. “Let’s go to your room, we don’t know how much time we have.”  
“How much time for what?” Ignis got to ask, as if not having heard the nag on not being stubborn. “Prompto, what’s wrong with-?”  
The doors slammed open.  
Ignis immediately turned to look at the main entrance again, taken off-guard by the loud noise.   
Gladio was standing there, fists done, breathing heavily to the point it looked more like his animal side instead of normal heavy breathing. He looked more hunchback than usual, like a cat on guard, and he frowned with tangible and incredible anger. He looked like a very angered and about-to-attack predator beast.  
And that’s maybe what he was in those moments.

Ignis gasped lightly and quietly at the first sight he had of Gladio at the doors; the way he looked was that much of a wild beast that his size and looks triggered anybody’s sense of fear, not “like he was” but rather because he _was_ a threat. Ignis surpassed the initial shock, but it did not wash entirely away; he stood entirely frozen and tensed in his place, unable to look anywhere else, watching as Gladio looked at his sides, snorting and as if he looked for something to smash.   
And then Ignis remembered.  
 _’Every time a petal falls, Gladio falls into bestiality a bit more.’_  
 _’Every time a petal falls and he gets all worked up, or when the beast tries to take over, Gladio just…goes there. He doesn’t want to harm any of us, and the library’s free of living furniture, so…’_  
 _Every time a petal falls._  
 _He gets all worked up._  
 _He doesn’t want to harm any of us._

Of course.   
_Of course._

Suddenly, Ignis felt himself tense with an intense fear and fell a bit into panic. Desperation had him thinking himself a foolish for not exiting when Prompto told him. The man stood there, frozen and tense, muscles hardened and pupils dilated in his biology’s reaction of being prepared in case he needed to run. But his mind screamed ‘Where?’. He was standing in a narrow hallway two floors up. And Gladio stood at the main doors, only way in and out. ‘Windows, Ignis’, but that could not work; those were permanent windows, not ones that could be opened. Breaking through them would call his attention and would madden him…

While Ignis thought on it, he stayed frozen with eyes full on Gladiolus, who entered the library but roamed nearby the entrance.   
“…come on, Ignis” Prompto whispered to him and his voice sounded like cautious steps on delicate ice; dangerous as itself, and with the double danger of giving a step in false to death. The candelabra pulled from his pants in a way that felt similar. “So long he doesn’t see us…”  
But Ignis did not reply for a moment. He was busy forcing himself calm; animals can smell fear irradiating from another being, and Gladiolus seemed to sniff on the air looking for the source of such a strong one. The human stood paralyzed and watched Gladiolus go down on hands and feet, starting to roam around like a hungry and angered wolf.   
It took a bit of a while, before Ignis merely nodded. He took an insecure step and found his mind working too slowly, and he felt particularly confused on what was frightening him this much. He had been literally trapped in an Iron Giant’s hand against the ground before, and he had kept the mind cool enough to know how to make it out alive. This was only Gladiolus…he could handle him, even weaponless, but…this was making him feel this odd fear inside. 

Trying not to think of those matters until he was in a safe space, he reached down and took Prompto in his hands, assuming that the noise the candelabra did when he jumped could be dangerous for them.   
“Now go calm, Ignis” Prompto whispered to him, looking at him like a soldier trying to transmit his own security and calm to his mate. “He’s mostly conscious. He just gets very, very easily angered. And he gets angry if you treat him like an animal; gesturing with a hand like you’re trying to calm a behemoth, speaking to him like he can’t understand, even things like walking too slow in his presence may anger him; it’ll make him feel like you’re seeing him as an animal and he hates that more than anything. Don’t; the intention may be good, but he’s going to mistake it” Ignis nodded, feeling oddly vulnerable and hating it. It was usually him on control of things and giving orders, not this scared deer. “Don’t fear if he sees you. Try smiling only a bit and continue your way. He’s like a snake; don’t give him reasons or make sudden movements and he won’t do anything. Okay?” the human nodded again, a hand moving up to nervously move his glasses up his nose. “He’s very sensitive to being triggered right now, Ignis. Just…go calm, try to make as little noise as possible because noise angers him, and just pretend he’s fine. Alright, buddy?”

Again, Ignis nodded. He sighed quietly to calm himself down and took a few more moments before he started walking, heading for the staircase. He went as quietly as he could and reached the first floor with no troubles. He stopped there to make sure Gladiolus was not looking their way, and found the beast had roamed in deeper into the library, and hence, a bit further away from the doors. Reassuring himself mentally that things were going better and good, he took the staircase again another floor down. He stepped on the floor with insecurity, like the only fact of touching it would call Gladiolus’ attention now that they were in the same ground level. He stood there, quiet and unmoving for a moment, and only took in a breath to slowly and as silently as he could let it out. Prompto gave him a glance to calm him and nodded at him. Ignis nodded back as if saying ‘Yes, I’m fine’ or ‘I understand’, and then he started walking towards the entrance.

He felt as if he had fallen into a pit with calm coeurls, where they could be minding their own business but that did not take from it the fact that it was still extremely, ridiculously dangerous. Ignis was aware that Gladio could attack him in any moment, and the pressure was ridiculous; if he moved too fast, he was in high risk. If he moved slow, he was in high risk. To be pressured into either being extremely silent or being extremely noisy were much better than this; it’s always far way much easier reaching the extreme of something than successfully staying on a perfect balance. One step in false (which could be either faster or slower, noisier or quieter, heavier or lighter, _anything)_ and he could die. Ignis kept going and stopped for half a second when he heard a loud snort. He hesitated, bit at his lip, and then continued. Prompto said it was fine to be seen, just as long as he did not act scared or did anything to upset him.

Thing is, what if only seeing Ignis maddened Gladio? If Ignis was comprehending this correctly, every time a petal fell Gladiolus turned a bit more to his animal side, the same that Ignis had met back at their first encounter in the tower, the same that the furniture friends could not convince earlier about Ignis’ captivity there, the same that chased him around the castle and had him jumping out of a fourth damn floor, the same that basically smashed him into the floor and would have killed him without the bat of an eyelash. The beast was very, _very_ upset at Ignis. Gladiolus could have been behaving incredibly well with him these past weeks, but the beast itself? His animal side? When he was in full rationality, Gladiolus was nice and almost kind to him. But when he was in this state? If Ignis viewed it as two different personalities instead of two different moods, he would say that there were two creatures living in that body; Gladiolus the ally-and-almost-friend, and the beast. 

And Ignis was terribly conscious that the beast hated him. Hated him enough to be triggered at only the sight of the man.   
Prompto had said it was fine if he was seen, but Prompto was speaking from experience; never before had a petal fallen while Ignis lived there. His sole presence turned the experience into something completely new to everyone, and there was no way Prompto could tell him what was fine and what was not. Never before had he seen Gladiolus’ reaction to seeing Ignis or knowing him nearby when a petal fell.   
Trying not to grow too paranoid into the idea but not helping the fear, Ignis swallowed and continued walking, hurrying a tiny bit and listening to nothing but the beast’s heavy snorting and the throbbing in his own head. 

Ignis stopped when he heard Gladiolus snorting particularly loud. He froze in his place and turned to a side.  
Gladio was watching him.  
The man stood paralyzed and trying to keep calm. He suddenly did not know what to do; if he broke eye contact he could be showing fear, but if he stared too much and did not look away, Gladiolus could take it as a dare. While he thought, he saw the beast’s frown twitch lightly as if in recognition, but an angered one. Like seeing Ignis was both unexpected and a reason to get mad. And, then, Ignis saw the beast raise again to his feet. It did not feel like recovering his sane side; it felt threatening. Even though he knew it was not the case, he suddenly felt like Gladiolus looked much bigger than he remembered, even seen with all the yards in between. Ignis continued to look at him a little more, and Prompto, in his hand, pulled slightly from his shirt as if to take him from that hypnotized state, but failing.

Ignis panicked a bit, but remembered Prompto’s advise if he was seen. Hoping not for anything good but rather for nothing bad to happen, Ignis blinked once and then gave a small smile. As a response, Gladiolus’s frown deepened in a way so that, besides angry, he also looked as if he suspected or awaited for Ignis to do anything else. The man still had no idea whether to turn his back on him or not, which thing could madden him more. Prompto told him not to treat him like an animal even if the intention was good, so not turning around could make Gladiolus think that Ignis thought him a wild animal. But Prompto also said he’s mostly conscious, so turning around like that could be insulting for the rational side and trigger the animal one. 

Still, not turning around seemed to be worse. So Ignis, trying to make it as casual as possible, turned around after his little smile. When he did and after the first step he gave, he stopped and looked over his shoulder when he heard Gladiolus growling loud enough. Ignis watched the beast glare at him, growl again, and then snap the head in another direction. As he did, his tail accidentally hit a shelf behind him and he dropped a book. The mere accident seemed to have triggered him, because Gladiolus proceeded to look at it, groan a half-swallowed roar, and he gripped at his head, like somebody had just broken a billion-worth-vase in his presence; exasperated and angered. He looked at the book, snapped the head another way, growled loudly and his hands pulled from his hair. Ignis’ eyebrows furrowed and something pinched his stomach when he saw Gladiolus doing that; even if it was about a beast, projecting anger into self-harm, even in tiny ways that could look ‘normal’ like pulling from hair…it was not okay. 

Still, Ignis tried to turn around again and continue walking, and so he did. His heart beat inside him at the pace of a scared bunny running. He breathed heavier than usual and kept the eyes focused full on the doors, and repeated in his head that it all was okay and he only needed to reach the doors. And then he heard Gladiolus still snorting, and it made him wonder if he had calmed a bit. Curious and knowing himself stupid for doing it, Ignis stopped. He hesitated and guessed the best for himself was to continue and exit, but something did not allow him to move until he reassured himself that Gladiolus was alright. That’s how Ignis ended up looking over his shoulder again, feeling…strangely concerned.   
He saw Gladiolus pacing in impatient and small circles over himself, before coming to a stop. Whatever had caused it, or if it was just Gladiolus dealing with himself with no other reason than the effects of the curse and the fallen petal, the beast stopped and growled again, more to himself than anything else.

Then, Gladiolus went down again all on four, and continued his pacing in small circles. He looked like a caged and very angered animal.   
Ignis hated it.  
He hated it in a way he had not hated Gladiolus before. He had hated him for being so rude, for being a jerk, for that smug smirk he sometimes gave, he had hated him with his guts and had wished his death at some point in their earliest stages of relationship. He had hated him to the point of wanting to throw up. But this kind of hatred was much more different. It was almost the opposite, without it stopping to be hatred. Because Ignis did not hate him in a way that burnt with anger inside himself. Maybe the hatred was not different itself, maybe the only change was the source of it. In the past, his hatred had focused in Gladiolus.

In those moments, his hatred was born from, directed to, and focused in something different; the beast side of him. The curse. The bloody curse. He was hating the animal. Gladiolus was biologically an animal, but this behavior was entirely different to his usual one. Being an animal did not change that he had been so kind to him, his little laughs, the way he talked so innocently and so passionately about flowers like they were his dearest treasures. This was not Gladiolus, the thing that paced in circles and snorted and salivated out of anger. Whatever that was going around, smacking books out of their shelves both on purpose and accident, growling, roaring…that thing was not Gladiolus. Not the one Ignis knew. Not the one Ignis liked and enjoyed being with.  
And yet, that _thing_ was pretending it was Gladiolus.   
‘ _How dare it?’_

“Let’s go, buddy” Prompto called, pulling again from Ignis’ shirt, looking up at him, but Ignis’ eyes and attention did not get off Gladiolus, who paced around and sometimes stopped just to raise a hand to push books off shelves. Ignis kept the head turned to look above his shoulder, and his hatred grew and grew. “We’re almost there.”  
But Ignis did not continue walking. He kept the eyes on Gladiolus.   
He watched him still going in circles, before he stopped and snapped the head in the direction of Ignis, making eye contact again. The expression and eyes he gave the human seemed to yell ‘Are you still here!?’. Ignis tensed a bit, like reacting and responding through body language, ‘Sorry, I’m going’. Except he did not go. 

When he didn’t, Gladiolus snorted loudly, seemed to contain himself the best he could, and proceeded to lower his head at the time he gripped at his hair again, prepared to explode in the worst and most violent eruption ever known in Eos. And he pulled from his hair. And pulled again and kept it pulled. Ignis’ eyebrows again twitched and the pinch in his stomach returned, except harder and lasting longer. He hated that vision, he hated to see Gladiolus pull at his hair with strength enough to damage himself. Was this a usual thing? Did every time that a petal fall and Gladiolus fell into bestial mode, did he find ways to hurt himself like this? Was pulling from his hair like this common? Why did everyone allow this to happen? Gladiolus was in a dangerous mode, of course, but was everybody ignoring he was dangerous to even _himself?_ What else did they let him do in these moments? Throw himself against walls, scratch himself to bleeding, hit himself? For the Astrals’ sake, he needed help. 

This was the most not okay thing Ignis had experimented so far.  
Gladiolus, the kind creature that went down on his ankles to caress a flower and look at it like a child…he did not deserve this. He did not deserve to be harmed by himself.  
And _that thing_ was doing this to him…

“Ignis” Prompto called again, murmuring. “It’s fine. We’ve gotta go, buddy. You’re in danger.”  
…but Prompto was right. There was nothing to do; if they always left him alone to vent his anger out, then so that was it. They had been handling Gladiolus for five years, they had to know what they were doing. Ignis could not just let his stubbornness and his need to always be on control take over. The curse worked with magic he could not understand, so he decided to leave things alone. Giving a last glance at Gladiolus, Ignis turned again and faced the door, and retook his steps.

Gladio breathed heavily, the entire upper part of his body moving with every breath he took in and out, and he glared at a wall like it was his worst enemy ever. He heard the steps of the human; despite them being quiet, this state of mind had him over sensitive; he was not sure whether it was just his anger what made him pay much closer attention or if his senses developed like that of a real animal, but he could hear his calm steps. He blessed and cursed him; he hated that the human did not stay, but nothing relieved and calmed him more he did. He hated Ignis for not going to him, but he thanked the Astrals he did not. Only seeing him had driven him crazy in many ways; a part of him wished to run towards him, grab him by the skull, and smash it against the floor like a tomato, another part was angered that he was invading Gladio’s personal, private sanctuary, another part was angered that Gladio found him so handsome and cute in his red cloak, another part was angered with the Astrals for shoving Ignis in the library in the exact moment of a petal’s fall, and another part was desperate for the man to leave as soon as possible.

Now that he was exiting, Gladio felt a similar mixture of emotions, but all ended up in the same place; anger and exasperation and a burning desire to smash the entire place and tear it into pieces. And he hated it, hated himself thinking he could do better, and he hated himself for allowing his mind to trail off like this. He was not an animal, he repeated to himself and he hated that instead of sounding like a fact, it sounded like a desperate plead. And he hated it, hated himself with the core of his entrails for what he considered his weak and stupid will, hating that this was all that he had.   
Exasperated, Gladio gripped at the chain that connected the tips of his cloak to his shoulders, and he pulled. It broke immediately, and he took the fabric, gripped it as if wanting to destroy it, but instead of that he tossed it at a side with all his strength. He hated how useless and unnecessary it felt on him, how suffocating, and hated himself for throwing it, and hated himself for hating himself for not throwing it and-

“You should be _very_ ashamed of yourself, Gladiolus.”

Almost without thinking, Gladio snapped the head in the direction of the voice. Standing there, nearby the doors and holding Prompto in his hands, stood Ignis. Contrary to what he looked when he was exiting, he looked entirely fearless. This time it did not look faked. He had the chin up, spine straight, and he was looking at Gladio with a frown, the usual he gave the beast whenever they argued or when he nagged the Shield. Gladio looked at him some moments, for a moment his anger being shadowed by confusion and surprise. As those emotions faded and were replaced by a bigger flame of anger, he turned his entire body in the direction of the human instead of only the head. When he did, and almost as if having taken that as an invitation or dare, Ignis opened the door only slightly, but did not exit; instead, he only put Prompto outside, gently, before closing the door again, and made eye contact with the beast once more, still frowning and with that fierce and fearless look. 

“What?” was all that Gladio muttered; a part of him asked because he could not understand how Ignis could say that, and another part was angry because how dare Ignis say that? It was both a request to repeat because it was not clear, and a dare. Ignis did but look at him for a couple moments. Gladio grew impatient of having no answer and was about to roar at him when the man opened the mouth.  
“You should be very ashamed of yourself” Ignis repeated, still staring at him with those fearless eyes. “Look at yourself. Throwing books off their shelves, ripping at your clothes, getting angry with walls. Is this what you do, is this the real you?” he continued to ask, and Gladio opened the eyes wide, while still frowning with anger. He was both angered and amazed, and could not understand what Ignis was doing or how could he dare do such a thing. “Your behavior is more than only unacceptable.”

Gladio grew angrier at that. Ignis, as if hesitating for only a second but only one, took a step ahead, then another. Gladio reacted to that, bowing slightly the head not in a submissive gesture but rather to tense the spine, like a cat prepared to jump onto its prey. Ignis stopped when he saw him do that, but, instead of getting scared and exiting like Gladio was hoping he would do, the man only frowned more at him.  
“And you stop that!” he said louder as if _nagging him._ “What is this behavior? Stop all this mess this instant, Gladiolus.”  
“What do you think I-” Gladio started muttering, but he shut himself up and snapped the head in another direction. He was so angered and he contained it so much that his entire body trembled furiously, almost violently. It took all his might to control himself, and he fought with the beast with all the strength he could gather, having to avoid looking at Ignis, and exhausting himself in his inner fight not to let the beast take over. He closed the eyes, shaking, teeth hurtfully pressed together. “…f-fuck…fuck off, Ignis.”  
“I will not accept such a vocabulary, let alone if it’s directed towards me” Ignis continued, and he started retaking his steps towards Gladio.

Gladio moved a hand up to press it against his forehead, claws burying in his scalp. He got a grip of his own hair and pulled, teeth clenching, and his whole being trying to stay on control of himself. But a few of Ignis’ steps later, Gladio did not resist and let go of his hair and turned to look at him.  
“I said fuck off!” he roared at the man, his voice sounding more animal than human. “I’m going to- I will…” he tried to explain as he was also threatening, and he had to stop to control himself, entire body still trembling. “Fuck off, Ignis!”  
“Is that all that you can say now?” the man asked him, and continued to go ahead, but Gladio roared with all the air in his lungs at him, making Ignis stop in his place again.  
From the door, that he opened as quietly as possible, Prompto looked at the inside and panicked seeing Ignis as close, terrified by what the man was saying.   
“Ignis, what are you doing?” he whispered, aware that Ignis could not listen to him. “Why are you provoking him, Ignis!?”

Ignis stood still some moments, looking at Gladio. He wished strongly that Gladio would be focusing in his eyes, and that way the beast would not notice the way Ignis’ legs trembled, not out of anger like him, but rather out of fear. Ignis’ heartbeat went nuts inside him, and his entrails shrunk, more than scared, entirely terrified. Still, he kept the eyes on Gladiolus, and did his best impression of his angered, uptight nagging, hoping he was not looking as terrified as he felt.   
“Look at yourself, Gladiolus” Ignis repeated, hoping to choose the best words as possible. “What is this awful behavior?”  
Gladio continued to look at him, frowning and trembling, angered and only getting worse.  
“You cannot act like this, Gladio” Ignis nagged him. “You’re acting like an animal.”  
The mere mention of that word was enough to have Prompto gasping and rushing his way inside, and to make Gladio’s eyes widen; the beast’s pupils transformed from an oval into a vertical line, like that of a feline. His nostrils opened and he snorted particularly loud. He got in position to require of only one trigger or second to jump straight onto Ignis, and Prompto, in recognition of the pose, hurried, but that only caused him to stumble and fall.  
“And you are _not_ an animal, Gladio.”

Ignis had used those words on him before, and had caused a similar effect; there where Gladio had been about to explode at him, he was again taken off-guard, and the anger…cooled.  
Prompto looked up, still thrown on the floor, and only watched, surprised. Ignis stood some yards from Gladiolus, and both looked at each other. Gladio still breathed heavily and trembled violently, and he still stared at Ignis like he was his most hated enemy, but the mere fact that he had not jumped onto Ignis was a wonder on its own. The candelabra looked at one and the other, not moving, fearing that a single movement of his could trigger the beast. Everything stayed quiet for a couple moments more.  
After a little longer, Ignis’ shoulder raised a tiny bit, and the man frowned a little more at him.  
“You should be very ashamed of yourself, Gladio” he repeated, and this time it did not sound like an exasperated nag. It sounded a little more like…more than a slap to the face, it felt like a grip to the shoulders. Careful. And caring. “Allowing your wild side to take over like this, allowing the curse humiliate you” he said as if listing, almost with disgust. “Behaving like an animal when you’re not. You should feel embarrassed.”  
“I am not-” again another sentence uncomplete that Gladio cut midways with a growl. He continued to look at Ignis with anger, teeth clenching and lips trembling in a threatening way, like an angered dog. 

“And complete your sentences, Gladio” Ignis nagged him, and started walking closer again. “You have an entire vocabulary and clear if not perfect diction, then you make use them” Ignis continued, and took another pair of careful steps closer.   
“Stop!” Gladio roared at him, and Ignis obeyed. “Ignis, leave me the fuck alone!” he growled again at the man.   
“See, at least now you’re finishing what you say” Ignis continued, and took only one step closer when Gladio roared again, and went down on all four, looking up at him and arching the back like a furious cat. Or a furious and extremely dangerous coeurl that could kill him with one movement. And despite the terror, Ignis still took another step closer and frowned _more_. “And get up on your feet! What are you, a cat!?”  
Gladio reacted by growling at him, but, suddenly, he said nothing. As if it was not in his possibilities to discuss or understand words anymore.   
“Do not growl at me, Gladiolus” Ignis continued to nag. “Is this the best you can do? You disappoint me. I thought you could handle yourself much better than this. I thought you better than an animal.”

Final trigger.   
The beast roared louder and arched the back even more, and then it was Gladio who took a step closer. Ignis took one back and raised a hand, index finger up, as if threatening him to not repeat that and to stop in his place. The motion worked, but only made Gladio angrier. Both stayed still, staring at each other to the eyes, tense. Ignis lowered his hand and took a trembling step closer, taking a more cautious look of Gladiolus. The beast breathed very heavily, and his body was not trembling as violently, which was not necessarily a good sign; as lost in anger as he looked, that he had stopped trembling only meant that he stopped controlling himself, and was letting the anger flow. His ears pointed back, alert, and his claws dug in the carpet, both the ones of the hands and the ones of the feet. His jaw was horribly tense, and his eyes…Gladio’s eyes were again a vertical line. They looked…wild. They looked animal. There was almost no sanity in them, rather only hungry and instincts.

And still, Ignis continued to get closer, slowly, until he was almost close enough to the beast for Gladio to reach him if he stretched an arm. At the proximity, Gladio growled at him, lowering the head as if getting prepared for his jump. His growl was aggressive and threatening enough for Ignis to stop and hesitate, entire body trembling. The thought would have been absurd in another situation, but right then the terror was so great that Ignis thought of his most human reactions, and feared he would wet the pants; a natural reaction of the body in such a terrible state of fear, but still a thought that surprised him because for that to happen he would have to have been pushed to his limits of fear. That was how terribly frightened he was in front of Gladiolus.  
And yet, he took another step closer. Gladio growled at it.  
Quickly, he moved a hand up, preparing his claws.  
Ignis looked at it and felt a drop of cold sweat roll down the side of his head.   
And, then, Ignis lowered his body lightly by slightly bending the knees and the spine, enough to not look any aggressive or in desire of getting dominance, but not enough to entirely subdue to Gladio.   
Gladio moved the arm back again, roaring lightly and prepared to claw at him.   
“Please, don’t.”

That was all that Ignis said for a moment. Gladio still kept the hand up, breathing heavy, and Prompto still watched and it was similar to some moments prior to this; Gladio was not calming, but the only fact that he had not thrown that claw to Ignis was all a new wonder. Everyone stayed still, and Ignis continued watching him, never once breaking eye contact with him.   
“I’m asking from gentleman to gentleman” Ignis said, calm. “Because that’s how we interact. I have never required to treat you like an animal and I will not do it now” he continued, and then started slowly moving a hand up. “This is what I meant with how ashamed you should be with yourself. Are you threatening to claw me? That’s low” he said and his hand, instead of showing itself as a gesture to request peace, turned so he was _offering_ it to Gladio. The beast looked at it only for half a second before shooting his bestialized glance at the man’s eyes again. Gladio still breathed heavily and kept the threatening hand up. “You have never required of that to argue with me. I can listen without being majorly injured, thank you.”

Even though it still sounded rude, truth is that it was not. Prompto stayed quiet and still in his place, both frightened to mess up and frozen in shock because he was finally understanding what was happening.  
Ignis was trying to tame the beast.  
Not Gladiolus; the beast, his animal side. He was trying to help Gladio through it, not running away from it.   
That he sounded rude was like an optical illusion, except turned into phonetics and words; he _sounded_ rude, but it was the entire opposite.  
And Prompto just let it happen. 

Ignis was still offering his hand for Gladio as if expecting him to take it, but the beast kept the hand up as threatening as before, snorting loudly, glaring at him. The man waited a little longer, blinking and still not looking anywhere else but those brown eyes.   
“Now, Gladio” he called, lower than before, “what is this behavior? This is not you” he kept the hand up and took half-a-step closer, making the beast growl quietly in response. “You swore to protect me, did you not?” he reminded. “And you’ve been careful with me. You have looked for accidental wounds on me when you’ve touched me before. You cannot be thinking about harming me on purpose. Are you?”  
He spoke slow but not like he was talking to an animal or a brainless creature. It was more like talking to somebody with slight amnesia; careful, and…sweet. And…almost…with empathy. Not pity; empathy.   
“That would be silly” Ignis said with a small smile. Like this was a casual conversation. “Lower those claws. I feel insulted.”

Gladio still looked at him like before, as wildly, but Ignis noticed and thanked that his breath had calmed. His body still moved with each one he took, but at least this was closer to ‘heavy breath’ rather than ‘hyperventilation’. Ignis wanted to and assumed it to be a good sign.   
“How will you look at my father if you return me to him and I’m awfully wounded?” Ignis asked, still looking as if he was angered, but speaking calm enough. “You are a man of word. And men do not claw each other. I mean no harm to you, then you have no reasons to mean any harm to me. Lower that hand.”  
And Prompto’s jaw hung open as he watched how, very slowly, Gladio started putting the arm down.   
Ignis took that as a new good sign, but when Gladio lowered his hand it was not to give it to him, rather for it to return to the floor, as he was still standing on all four. Which was bad. Maybe Gladio had lowered the hand, but he had not accepted his own, and his eyes still had that animal look on themselves. Besides, Gladio was still growling, and he said nothing like he had yet not recovered sanity yet. 

Not knowing very well where to go now, Ignis only looked at him and thought about putting his own hand down, but as he did, Gladio tensed and his growling grew louder. It was clear he was still in real intentions of attacking at some point. A bit more insecurely for not knowing what now, Ignis decided to insist a little more, and maybe try to touch him. He started raising his hand again, its intention focusing on landing on Gladio’s arm.  
“Gladio-”  
He got a roar in response, and the beast backed a step, only to raise the arm again. Ignis backed a step too and immediately put a hand up as reflex, this time having thought for entirely sure that Gladio was to claw him. The man stayed frozen, arm covering his face, looking another direction, and awaiting the hit that did not come. A little later, afraid that his fear would mess things up, Ignis lowered the arm and took a moment to himself, to allow himself a little of the terror he had been hiding with all his might. He breathed and let that fear flow inside him for a moment, exhaling tremblingly, before taking air in again, arming himself with courage to keep the mask of calm on, and he looked again at Gladiolus. The beast was lowering the arm slowly again, and the gesture looked like he raised the arm as a threat every time Ignis got dangerously close, and that he would only claw if the man touched him. 

Ignis stayed quiet and still a little longer, trying to think of an answer.   
“Gladio” he called as firmly as a teacher about to lecture their student; “control yourself. This is what I meant with how ashamed you should be with yourself, and exactly what I meant with how I thought you better than an animal.”  
His words provoked Gladio a bit more, and it was shown through a louder growl and the way he bristled. Ignis, however, did not back away and decided to continue to the end of his new plan.  
“You should be ashamed of what you’re making yourself look like right now” Ignis continued, “because it looks like absolutely nothing of the Gladiolus that I know.”  
After he said that, he tried getting close again, and retaking the step he took back with no consequences felt like a triumph.  
“The Gladiolus that I know” he started saying, and he took another step as he continued talking as if trying for the impact of his words to hide how dangerously close he was getting, “doesn’t behave like this. The Gladiolus that I know would not toss his clothes like that. He would not push books off their shelves just out of anger” Ignis continued, and he was soon standing at the same distance than before. And, like expected, Gladio growled and, when Ignis took half a step closer, he raised his arm again. Ignis flinched at it, but forced himself to stay as still as possible. “I still haven’t talked with him about it, but they’ve told me the library is like his personal sanctuary. I have theorized that he must love books very dearly. Gladiolus, the one I know, has no reasons to mistreat the poor books.”

Said that, he tried getting closer again. Gladio kept the hand up and his body flinched a bit when Ignis started raising the hand, but his claw did not fly towards him, not yet.   
“The Gladiolus that I know” Ignis continued, “loves flowers. He could talk about flowers all day, and he knows more about flowers than anybody else I know. And I’m an academic” and, finally, he smiled at the beast, forced but trying his best for it not to look that way. “I don’t think I’ve told you how much I enjoyed of our tour in the gardens, Gladio. I thanked you, but didn’t tell you how…gratifying it was” he looked down for only a moment, before he remembered this moment was not about him, and he forced himself to maintain eye contact with Gladio again. “More than gratifying. It was incredibly enjoyable. The way you talk about flowers, it’s…great, too.”  
This was the sincerest Ignis had said so far, mostly because it was spoken to Gladio directly and not in third person. And it had its effects; little by little, Gladio started lowering the hand again. Motivated by the gesture, Ignis got a tiny bit closer, not even stepping one foot in front of the other, rather with tiny movements.  
“The Gladiolus that I know” Ignis continued, “accidentally touched me that day so I wouldn’t fall, and then got nervous that he had accidentally harmed me. And he started looking on me to make sure I was fine. And asked me, many times, if I was alright” he continued getting closer, and his hand started moving up again, retaking its way. “…I _know_ that Gladiolus would not harm me” the words trembled a little, because, truth be told, this was partly a lie. Ignis was not sure about that fact. In those very same moments, he was dying of terror about Gladio’s claws. He was not sure of that, but if he did not show confidence, if he showed a tiny bit of hesitation, Gladio could consider it threatening. So Ignis rolled with his own lie. “He has shown care” which was not part of the lie, “I see no reasons he would like or want or even _try_ to hurt me. Hence, this is either not you, or I was awfully mistaken. Which would disappoint me very much.”

Ignis’ hand, trembling and unable to hide it, tried getting closer. Gladio’s ears moved and he growled lowly in response, but his hand continued its way down, if only a little tenser now. Ignis watched him cautiously and tried to control his own breath, still coldly sweating.  
“Because I’ve…” he thought of his words, and had no idea whether it was part of the lie…or a new truth. Having no time to figure it out, he only let it out and decided he could think about that later. If there was any Later to him, if things worked out alright. “…I’ve grown…very fond of the real you.”  
Gladio reacted to that. His ears moved and the gaze in his eyes seemed to change for a small moment; both in recognition and surprise. Sane. But, then, he grew angry again, and Ignis assumed the beast could have taken that as a lie or sarcasm.   
“I’m going to be very disappointed if the idea I have started to build of Gladio is but a lie, and the real Gladio is this” Ignis continued, trembling hand still nearby the beast. “Because the idea I had built of Gladiolus was far more than a growling creature” he said not to repeat the word ‘animal’. “My idea of Gladiolus was that of happy, a bit of a joker, and a bit exasperating gentleman, I must say.”

Even though it was not at all a compliment, Ignis delivered that last part of his words with a gentle smile and the voice low. Gladio’s breath seemed to be eventually and slowly but effectively calming down.   
“My idea of Gladiolus also included more things” Ignis continued, and got a tiny bit closer again, hand still stretched towards him, “that of friendliness, for example. And, lately, also great and sincere kindness…”  
Ignis’ intention had been reaching the beast’s arm, but he would have to get far much closer, and his hand would have to travel right an inch at a side of his face, the most dangerous part. Fangs incredibly long and ridiculously sharp, they would need to only rub on his skin to cut and tore it open. Gladiolus could turn in any moment to bite him. Not to say his horns were not less threatening either, as strong, thick and sharp looking. Ignis decided for his hand to rather touch the neck, to shorten the time and distance of his touch. His hand, by this point, reached close to Gladio’s face, enough for the beast to turn and bite him whenever he wanted. And yet, Ignis did not move away. He stayed in the same place.   
“You’ve been very kind to me these past days, Gladio” Ignis continued telling him. “I’ve been discovering more things of you thanks to that. And none of those things include that of a growling, threatening monster” he said and stretched the hand a little despite Gladio’s warning growl. “It’s almost the opposite. I’ve seen…kindness” Ignis’ voice went a bit quieter, so the conversation could stay only between the two. “And politeness.”

By then, his hand was closer to Gladio’s neck than his face, but Ignis still moved it incredibly slowly. The beast still looked at him with the same feline eyes and breathed heavily, tense and on guard.   
“I’ve seen even some shyness” Ignis smiled again, a small curve born almost without thinking. “And care.”  
Finally, Ignis dared reach the hand against Gladio’s neck. His fingers brushed against his hair, before his gloved fingertips found the skin underneath. However, as soon as he touched, Gladio gave a small roar at the time the beast tried shaking him off, taking two steps back and continuing to growl at Ignis, mouth twitching like that of an angered wolf. Ignis removed his hand at the time the beast backed away, and forced himself to stay on his place.   
“…and self-control” Ignis said as if both reminding and nagging him, softly, moving his hand closer to himself. Without breaking eye contact with Gladio, he started taking off his gloves, one by one, slow enough not to seem threatening or suspicious. Once with those off, he let them fall to the floor and he showed his bare hand to Gladio. “See, it’s only my hand. Exposed now. You can claw at it if you wish, but I don’t think you do, do you?”

Gladio did not reply, but he moved the eyes. They seemed to scan Ignis, not as a threat, but rather as hesitation. The human, taking that as a good sign, tried getting closer again, stretching again the hand and breaking the space between them once more.  
“You’ve been very careful with me” Ignis said in almost a murmur, and his hand returned to a side of Gladio’s face, faster this time now that it was explored territory, but still taking its time as it reached for the neck once more. “You don’t want to hurt me, do you?” he murmured again, and this time he could feel Gladio’s fur as his hand ghosted nearby it. It was warm and very soft. “You’re a good person. You don’t want to scare me, do you?” as he said that, he let his hand start diving into Gladio’s fur, little by little. The beast’s breath grew heavier as he did, but Ignis maintained eye contact and smiled at him again. “You have been gentle with me. This is not like you. Why not show me a little gentleness right now? I know you have it. Don’t be rude.”

And, finally, Ignis’ fingertips rubbed on Gladio’s skin. They stayed still a few moments, before Ignis touched a little more. Gladio tensed, but did not back away.   
“The Gladio that I know” Ignis said and smiled again, “even has a sweet side.”  
Gladio’s breath stopped for a moment, but it soon continued, still heavy, but less notorious than before. Ignis reached closer and his hand properly landed on Gladio’s skin, buried and lost in the fur of his neck, and with a proper touch now.   
“You’re not a monster” Ignis whispered to him, and he started raising his other hand. “You’re gentle and kind. Not this. Please, come back to yourself.”   
Ignis was not sure whether it was the touch of his hand, his words, or the way he whispered them, but Gladio’s breath calmed down much more noticeably. In exchange, his body started trembling, and, finally, after what felt like an eternity, Gladio looked away. Ignis paid attention to his pupils and saw them become ovals again, little by little. Hence, Ignis theorized, the trembling was a good sign; maybe it meant he was back to more consciousness, and was back at fighting off his bestial side. Ignis waited a few more moments, and stretched the other hand until it was close to Gladio’s face.   
“The Gladio that I know is that what I’ve seen” Ignis murmured to him, and the fingertips of his other hand ghosted on the fur. “Kind, gentle, and even sweet.”

Soon enough, Ignis’ other hand started burying in the fur as well, calm and slow, taking his time and feeling a little more confident, even though the human was still trembling in fear that he tried to maintain hidden.   
“And you _are_ that Gladio” Ignis said and let his hand land on Gladio’s neck as well, so in some way he was cupping it, despite the ridiculous size of it. Gladio was still looking away, and even though his breath was still heavy, it was different; when all the mess started, his breath was threatening and on guard. Right in those moments, it felt as if a result of exhaustion. It reminded Ignis of the way Gladio had pulled at his own hair, and decided that, now that Gladio was not looking to his face, he could look for any signs of harm on him, which he did as he spoke. “So behave like yourself.”

Gladio closed the eyes tightly and tried to control himself as best as he could. His pupils trembled as if hesitating whether to go back to being a vertical line or if they had to become a circle. His teeth clenched, the jaw hardly pressed. Something in his stomach was both empty and overloaded and he felt like he had been set both on fire and ice. It was overwhelming, and it was threatening on knocking him out, which he was not sure if was good or bad. He feared that losing consciousness was only his mental side, while the beast took over his body to do as it pleased. And he could not allow that. He was Gladio. He was that exasperating and kind person that Ignis was talking about. He had put great effort into showing to Ignis that he too could be a man, he had given his best in trying to make Ignis notice that their first encounters were not _him_ , and that this was the real him. The one that liked flowers and books and that felt more than only mercy, and could be kind, and sweet, and gentle. 

He had worked far too hard on it to let the beast embarrass him in front of Ignis. But it was so hard…Ignis should not have stayed there. Gladio could handle this on his own, he could vent it out himself and come back to senses alone, he did not need this. He was only putting Ignis to risk…foolish Ignis, thinking only fake words of kindness would help…  
Gladio contained a groan in his throat and hissed lightly at the terrible headache that hit him like an anvil falling on his head. He moved a trembling hand up to his head and groaned again in pain, and tried to not push Ignis’ hands off him. They felt so good, too good, too new, and it was _burning_ , but he did not want to accidentally hurt him. The Astrals damn, the pain was unbearable…

“Look at this” Ignis whispered at him, and Gladio felt the way one of Ignis’ hands moved from his neck up to his head, and he rubbed very, very, incredibly softly on a particular spot of it that hurt. “You harmed yourself…”  
When Ignis touched the spot, Gladio half-roared and moved a hand up, by instinct gripping at Ignis’ wrist. The man gasped, but did not fight him. Instead, all that Ignis did was to rub very softly on the same spot for a moment.  
And then he started scratching very, oh so ridiculously softly on his scalp, nearby one of his ears.   
“Hurting yourself is no answer to anything, Gladio” Ignis whispered at him, and Gladio hissed, his hand letting go of Ignis’ wrist and flying to the floor only due to the sudden need of support or he would collapse. “If you don’t want to hurt me, I see no reason you would want to hurt yourself” he said as kindly as before, and his now free hand landed on one of Gladio’s cheeks, caressing the fur and keeping his face cupped, while the other continued scratching. “Because you don’t want to hurt either of us, do you? That would be silly, and rude, and you’re smart and kind. No reasons for that. Right?”

_…right…_

Gladio trembled and it only got worse with every second and every movement of Ignis’ fingertips on his scalp. His eyelids felt heavy and they fluttered, but he had long been unable to fully open the eyes. His vision was blurry, but there were no tears in them. For a moment, he stopped breathing. 

And, then, he subdued to Ignis. 

Even though he was standing on all four paws (not hands and knees, rather on feet and hands just fine like it was a natural pose for him), he was still pretty enormous, so Ignis was not much taller. But after a few moments since Ignis’ last delivered words, Gladio did reach to stand his weight on his knees rather than his feet, which lowered his body. It was only a matter of a few more moments before his knees failed as well, and the beast’s hips fell to a side, unable to maintain his legs strong, like they had become wet paper and simply broke, not standing any bit of weight. This left Gladio on his hands only. His entire body trembled, and the position did but worsen it.   
And then Gladio lowered the head.

His ears went down first, and his eyes followed, before his entire head bowed, exhausted. The sight reminded Ignis of a crying child. It felt awful in the heart, like a punch to the stomach, but it was also relieving; this innocence and this vulnerability showed sensible humanity. Which had been what Ignis was looking to recover. Quietly, the man took in a breath and closed the eyes, and slowly let the air out.  
He had been so terrified…he had felt this would never end, or that it would end in him torn to pieces.   
“It’s okay” Ignis murmured to him, still scratching his scalp and avoiding the little spots from where Gladio had pulled to hard from his hair or buried the claws until either bruising or making it bleed a bit. “I cannot imagine how hard it must be for you, but that doesn’t mean you have to go through this alone.”  
Said that, Ignis moved his other hand so that it caressed past Gladio’s cheek, burying in the fur of his nape.   
“You’re doing excellent, Gladio. See, I knew you were much better than that” Ignis smiled at him even though the beast kept the head entirely down. “You’re doing fantastic, like I expected from such a strong and good creature like you.”

And it was then that Gladio collapsed to his forearms, with Ignis in front of him.

The movement made Gladio escape from Ignis’ hands, as the man was still standing and now Gladio had gotten reduced to tiny height. For a moment, Ignis did not know what to do, and he only stood there.   
And Iris, at the doors, and Prompto, some steps away of her, watched the strange and unexpected scene; Gladio, the imposing, unbreakable and terrifying beast, lying on the floor, barely standing the weight on his forearms and hands, trembling, while the human stood in front of him, calm. There were only a couple books scattered around the floor and only Gladio’s cloak tossed aside. Nothing major had happened. If anything, Gladio’s sensible state of anger had been…it was like Ignis had…like he had controlled it all just fine. Feeling her presence nearby, Prompto looked back at Iris, who only gave him the same huge, surprised eyes, and did not answer the silent question because she could not understand either. Both only looked at them in complete silence, shocked. 

Ignis found it insulting to stay on his feet, so he went down on his ankles, slow and soft enough as he had been doing everything for a while; Gladiolus could have gone down, but if he had strength enough to stay on his forearms, he still had strength enough to move if he was provoked. Once there, he moved the hands up again, this time much more confident now that Gladio seemed to be back in senses, and buried his fingers in the fur again. Despite the movement, Ignis was still trembling slightly in fear, and did not feel entirely comfortable, but he had to continue to the end, or who knew how it could affect Gladiolus.  
“It’s okay” Ignis whispered again, and he moved to be down on his knees. He caressed Gladio’s neck and nape with his hands, reassuring, like a mother’s hands on her child’s back to help them stop crying; soothing and slow, firm but tender. Ignis stayed quiet, assuming the excess of talking could be wrong as much as not talking. He kept the ungloved hands caressed through Gladio’s fur. He tried looking for a way to ask whether Gladio could talk yet or not, but he did not want to make it sound like he had been dealing with an animal. Coming up with an indirect way of asking, Ignis continued caressing his neck before asking, “How are you feeling?”

Gladio did not reply. Ignis felt terrible watching him tremble like that; he looked like he was putting himself through far too much effort and it was wearing him out like nothing else could get. Ignis tried to think of something while his fingertips caressed the beast’s skin in small scratching movements.   
“You look exhausted, Gladio” Ignis murmured to him. “Do not force yourself. Not fighting back doesn’t always mean you’re giving up. You are aware there’s nothing wrong on being tired, aren’t you?” he asked and moved one of his hands from Gladio’s neck to the top of his head, where, instead of the little scratches, he started caressing, as if combing the hair backwards, except it was in slow and gentle movements. “I’m staying here…if that helps, somehow.”  
Ignis was not sure whether Gladio was listening or not, if it was due to his words and actions or just the effect timing according to them, but it only took a few more moments before Gladio collapsed in front of him.   
As if passing out, the beast stopped supporting his weight on the forearms, and let himself fall; luckily, Ignis reacted quick enough and used both hands to support the weight of his head before it could hit the floor or his knees. Gladio’s skull weighted more than Ignis expected; he assumed the horns, fangs and the skull itself on dead weight had to be particularly heavy, so while unexpected, it did not surprise him.

Not wanting to drop him on the floor, Ignis unfolded his legs from under himself and crossed them, still holding Gladio’s head and, once he slipped one of his thighs under it, he gently placed Gladio’s head on it, on an angle so that his horns would not hurt him and the beast could breathe. Sideways was not working as well as he guessed lying on his back would do, but he felt requesting things from Gladio in those moments could anger him. His horns were not particularly huge, but it was not like they were like a teen deer’s either. Gladio was in a facedown-oriented-sideways position that did not seem uncomfortable, and Ignis hoped that was the case. The beast breathed heavily, but it was not as if he was suffocating. It was as if though he had gone through a harsh battle or as if he had run more than his body could, and had finally collapsed unconscious, except, or so Ignis had understood, Gladio was still awake. Weakened, but awake. 

The human closed the eyes and stopped breathing for a moment. Finally, this felt like it was all over. Only now after it was all ending, he realized how awful he felt; adrenaline drained from his body, he started feeling slight nausea, and a terrible headache. The Astrals bless, he did not wet the pants like he had feared. But he felt a little breathless and exhausted, like the terror had been so great it drained his mental state, and went beyond it and, finding no more mind to drain, it decided to do it to the body. But it was not the moment to take a break; Gladiolus was in a much worse state and he had put himself in the situation of supporting the beast’s weight, literally. It would be rude to excuse himself, put him fully on the floor, and leave to his own room only because he too felt tired. Leaving someone in distress despite his own was not Ignis’ style. 

He released the shaky breath he had been holding and opened the eyes again, but took a moment to take his glasses off, putting them in a pocket in his shirt. He sighed softly again as if to calm himself, and his hands returned to Gladiolus’ head. The beast barely reacted; only one of his ears flapped as response to the touch. He continued to breathe heavily and only lie there, the head on Ignis’ lap. Ignis waited a little longer and let his nude hands roam slowly through Gladio’s mane and fur. Waiting in silence, Ignis took a moment to look at the hair slipping through his fingers, and found the color to be absurdly pretty. It was like three or four different chocolates, each of different brown tone, melted into one bowl, then used as paint when the Astrals created Gladio’s hair. Here, a light brown lock, and here one so dark it’s almost pitch black. Ignis found himself smiling slightly at the sight, and at the sensation of the fur between his fingers. It was soft, incredibly soft. He imagined that if he had such soft fur, he could sleep on bare floor and still be comfortable. 

After a few moments thinking about his hair, Ignis was brought back to reality when a little whine echoed in Gladio’s throat, decorated with a small hiss of what sounded like pain.  
Ignis looked down at him, and even though they could not make eye contact even if Gladio had been entirely alright, Ignis still kept the eyes on what he could see of his face.   
“What is it, Gladio?” Ignis asked, but received no answer even though he waited a few moments. “Does something hurt?” but, despite the wait, again no answer other than the heavy breathing. Ignis thought about it for a moment. He tried paying attention to Gladio’s scalp as his fingers caressed through his hair, to see if he spotted any accidental injury, even though he had no option but to attend to them later, when Gladio could entirely calm down and maybe until he could stand up again. He was not bleeding, so he was not in major risk.   
Ignis found it unnecessary to keep on talking; he had said enough and talking too much could annoy Gladio in his state. But he also did not want to keep quiet; at least, when he had been talking Gladio had calmed, and right then he was hissing from time to time and, sometimes, and sounding more involuntarily than consciously, a little whine escaped him.   
The man assumed he could make noises with his voice other than talking.  
The only thing he knew that could fit the description was singing.  
So he started humming. 

He remembered both his parents had done it to him to calm him. His mom tried to ease his nervous attacks exactly like he was now doing to Gladio; resting his head on his lap, caress his hair, and hum to him. His dad had done it too, during a lapse in which Ignis had been having recurrent nightmares. He, just like his mom, would caress through his hair, and even though it was not as frequent as his mom used to do, sometimes Caleo hummed to him. It had always worked. It calmed his mind every time, had calmed his entire soul, and had put him to sleep even when in his worst moments. So, he assumed and hoped he was not doing anything too ridiculous.   
He started low and hesitating. For a moment, his face burnt bright and he thanked the Astrals Gladio could not see him. Nobody, not even Aranea, had ever heard him hum or sing. This was embarrassing and putting him through great shyness, but he did not let it stop him.

Fingers still roaming through Gladio’s hair, Ignis tried forcing confidence on himself not to be as quiet. He did not part the lips to hum, only let the sounds echo in his throat. Small and quiet sounds here and there, like stray notes he found in the way as he swept a mostly-empty music sheet. It was shy and so vague it was barely any melody at all.  
But Gladio relaxed.   
It was not immediate, but almost. Enough for Ignis to clearly notice. Gladio did not move, and, like most of times, Ignis could see most of the reaction in his ears; he thought they were relaxed enough, but he soon saw them moving down a little more, as if finally giving up any tiny hint of tension they held. Gladio’s entire body felt lighter a few moments into Ignis’ humming, and the tip of his tail twitched only once. Ignis watched his body, that still trembled but somehow felt lighter, more relaxed, and he found in that a bit more of the confidence he needed to feel less awkward with his humming. His voice turned a bit louder, and the melody became much clearer. 

Ignis spent a few more minutes like that. He felt too shy and uncomfortable to properly sing, but he continued to hum. Every minute that passed gave him a little more confidence, since not being judged and focusing only in caressing Gladio’s hair helped him as if he was alone, like he sometimes hummed to himself while shaving. Ignis took in little breaths here and there, and did part the lips at times, but it was only to hum certain vowels or sounds rather than singing any words. He stayed quiet, feeling Gladiolus untense more and more as he continued, and he thanked himself for getting over the embarrassment of humming, seen as it was apparently the correct answer. But Gladio did not stop shivering. Out of mere reflex rather than any proper analysis of the beast’s body language, Ignis took off his cloak calmly, and threw it onto the beast’s figure like a blanket. It fit Ignis a little too big for his size, but it was a short on Gladiolus. The angle Ignis was forced to throw the cloak on him was no help and the fabric could only cover him in a way that left Gladio’s legs uncovered from the knees to the toes, but covering most of him was a triumph on its own.

Ignis tried making sure it covered him as best as possible, and hoped that what Gladio was feeling was cold and not heat, or he would have only worsened things. Unsure and prepared to remove it if Gladio showed discomfort, Ignis continued with his task, fingers returning to Gladio’s head and neck, caressing the fur and stroking gently through it, while his throat hummed softly and in the perfect volume so it was not annoying on Gladio’s sensitive ears, but not too low to go unnoticed.   
And minutes went on like that.   
The entire library was drowned in some special kind of silence, one that felt…warm, somehow. For a moment, it felt surreal for Ignis that he had been as terrified less than an hour prior to his. It was surreal that this same creature had been as threatening as Ignis assumed a Bennu or a King Behemoth could be. It was strange to think he could be so terrified when, in those moments, he was sincerely enjoying caressing the beast’s fur. Gladio laid so calm and still on his lap, and the way he trembled very slightly, almost nothing at all but still not in a definitive halt, and his body language and how he had collapsed there reminded Ignis of a mistreated animal or child; innocent, scared, vulnerable.  
Ignis, smile gone, hum a little mechanical, stared with sadness at Gladio and scratched softly behind his ear.  
 _’How can someone so pained be so scary?’_

Half an hour passed, an entire half an hour before the situation changed in some way. It felt partly like an eternity for Ignis, on full consciousness and with Gladio’s head on his thigh, humming and just sitting there for thirty entire minutes. Partly, it was not so long, with how lost in his thoughts Ignis could let himself go, most if not all of them focused on Gladiolus, his hair, his mistreated scalp, and the rage attack he had had due to the fall of a petal. Ignis was thinking about those matters when he felt Gladiolus reacting under his hands and against his thigh.  
The beast let a small and weak but deep groan echo in his throat, as if lazily waking up. Ignis wondered if he had been able to sleep, or if he had been conscious during this knock out. The man looked down at him, silent and expecting, still softly caressing through his fur. Suddenly, some noises escaped the beast; it sounded like words, except they were foreign and said in a mutter by a sleeping drunk man. Ignis waited a bit, but understood those had been words very badly delivered, and even though he hoped Gladio would repeat, the beast did not, so Ignis felt obliged to ask.  
“My apologies” he started, calm and soft, “I didn’t understand. Did you say anything, Gladio?”  
It took some moments. Gladio’s breath was much more calm by now, but as calm as it was it was still a little heavier than normal. Ignis thought the beast was asleep and it had been a sleepy mutter, but soon enough was proved otherwise.   
“…I am…” Gladio started with a hoarse voice, like it was the first time he spoke in decades, or like he was trying to get used to a new mouth. “…I am…not…a lap dog…”

Ignis blinked, both a little confused and surprised. The words had been rude, but the way Gladio had said it…it sounded like a failed attempt of trying to sound angry to hide other feelings. Ignis took a few moments, not moving, before his fingers continued caressing at his scalp and hair. Gladio stayed quiet, blinking his weak eyelids, and feeling…defeated.   
“And I’m not treating you like one” Ignis responded, calm and smiling lightly. “I’m assuming you talk about the position we’re in, and my hands on your head?” it took still a few moments, and Gladio gave a low growl in response, growl that (thank the Astrals) sounded more like a moody human sound than an animal. Ignis took that as a Yes. “This has got nothing to do with lap dogs. This, I would do for any friend.”  
He forgot to add the ‘if they need to’, because it was not like he was the most physical of-  
What had he just said?

Ignis’ hands stopped again, hesitating, when he noticed what had slipped past his mouth. He looked at nowhere on the floor in front of them, in realization and a bit of the sensation that he had screwed up. They stayed quiet together, with a slight tension clear in the air.  
“…what?” Gladio muttered from his place, not moving a single inch.   
The man stayed entirely quiet. His hands had stopped and floated nearby the beast’s head. Ignis blinked a couple times, still a little awkward. It was moments later that he sighed and reached a hand to push at his glasses, only to poke at his nose, remembering his glasses were not in their place.   
“My apologies” he said lowly. “I…may have…rushed. Or…I apologize. It was not appropriate for-”  
“Leave it” Gladio managed to weakly mutter from his place. The man stayed quiet, but finally laid his hands again on the beast’s head. Gladio closed his eyes and sighed quietly at the touch. “It’s fine. To call me that. If you want.”

There was silence again. Ignis’ hands still remained mostly still, hesitating. The man himself stared at nowhere at all, rather nervous. Or merely confused. He stayed quiet, and let the silence linger for a bit too long.   
“…or not” Gladio said after that long pause. Two tiny words that made Ignis’ heart shrink slightly inside him, as if feeling guilt. Which was not a lie at all. The man still stayed quiet for a moment, before he shook the head even though he was aware the beast could not see him.  
“No” Ignis murmured to him, kindly but shy, “it’s fine. I mean, it’s alright. If that’s alright with you…”  
Yet another silence. The pause was like the previous one, long enough to make the man wonder if the beast had finally fallen asleep.  
“It is” Gladio managed to mutter, weaker than before. 

Ignis smiled, a little shy, but calm. 

They went quiet once more. Ignis’ hands started retaking their previous task, caressing the beast’s scalp and fur, and secretly adoring of the sensation. Gladio kept the eyes closed and let out a little sigh as Ignis’ hands moved on him. For a moment, Gladio hated himself for not being entirely alright; if he was, he could enjoy a little more of the human’s touch. The casual touch to his shoulder during the garden stroll was absolutely nothing compared to this. This was lasting longer, this was not a casual brush, and this was…this felt…so caring. So wonderful. A bit frightening for strange reasons, but oh so dearly calming. It felt way too wonderful for it being only caresses to the head. It felt almost like a blessing, like a gentle goddess’ hands among his hair. It made him feel a little more…alive.  
But the weakness, the terrible weakness…he felt so exhausted…

“Ignis?” he managed to call after a few moments of silence, eyelids heavy when he tried to open them. The man hummed a little ‘Hm?’ in response. Gladio again closed the eyes and sighed quietly. “Could you…continue?” there was a pause in which he felt the confusion of the human. Gladio tried explaining but his mouth failed for a moment, and it took a second before he gathered strength to talk again. “Your…voice.”  
It took only a small moment again, before he heard a quiet ‘Oh’. For a moment, he thought Ignis would ask just to make sure, and it made Gladio want to instantly reply ‘Never mind’ or ask him to forget it. But the tension that comes prior to a question existed only a moment before it died.   
“Alright” was all that Ignis whispered before yet another pause, that was followed by the man’s throat starting to hum again.

And his voice continued. Quiet ‘Hm’ and ‘Doo’ sounds, coming and going. For a moment, Gladio thought he knew the melody, but his mind was fogy and he could not think about it to name it. His eyelids fluttered slowly a few times before falling gently shut again. He could imagine Ignis’ voice like the first and only time he had accidentally caught him humming; it was like a green little flame, as if a dot, that moved according to the notes. It moved gently and each note was a little spark. Whatever the song, it was calm, and Ignis’ darned beautiful voice was making it justice and a great team to almost make of it a lullaby. Gladio wondered if Ignis sang often. He wondered if he had sung for his father, or for his friends. If he wanted children, would he sing to them like this? Because it sounded…beautiful. Calming and soothing. His voice made him feel like a petal, where the voice was the calm water it floated on. 

Gladio took in a deep breath without realizing, and let it out very slowly. At the same time, his body stopped trembling. Ignis realized Gladio was at the edge of unconsciousness, which would mean having to stay sat there for the gods know how much longer. But Ignis did not mind; he did not fear that fact, and did not want to move away. He stayed there, quietly humming while his hands gently roamed among the beast’s hair.  
Gladio stayed quiet and calm, head rested on his friend’s lap, and Ignis’ voice was the last thing he was conscious about before falling asleep, and he hoped it would be the first whenever he woke up.

Ignis noticed when Gladio fell asleep. It made him feel ease in his own heart; after the terrible state he saw Gladiolus in, to watch him asleep was a blessing. Gladio fell asleep on him like he had just fought the battle of his life against his darkest demon.   
Of course he deserved this sleep, Ignis thought while caressing his hair. He had been strong, and had fought well. He needed and deserved that rest. 

Ignis continued to hum for a little longer, until he was sure that this, his new friend, was peacefully asleep.


	21. Empathy

Ignis had not noticed how used he was to the constant Tick Tack in his life until it was not there.

That he noticed the ticking was missing was another way of realizing that Ignis was constantly accompanied by it; hence, it was a way to notice the real measures of how much time he had been spending with Noctis for the past months. The realization had him smiling softly and he had to admit it; he had grown very fond of the little clock. Of Prompto, too. Ignis had grown to appreciate very dearly every person he had interacted with in the Citadel, but the ones that had entirely taken a warm corner of his heart to nestle in and refuse to come out were Noctis and Prompto, the dynamic duo that could drive him mad very easily, but that he appreciated very dearly, and, perhaps, he probably was learning to love in some way.

Both had aided him since the very beginning of things, of course, but it was something about their hearts and the aura around then what made Ignis feel so bonded to them. Both were incredible souls, with good intentions, and some sort of child-like innocence while remaining mature. Prompto made him feel warmth and company, he made him feel hugged without the necessity of physically receiving it. Noctis could always make him feel at peace; his presence was very similar to the silence of the night. Not any other kind of silence; particularly the one that shows at night. Different from day’s silence, more intimate, and a bit more solemn. Noctis, for some reason, made him feel at home. Not as in Northern Insomnia, or his house, not even ‘home’ as in his friends and family. Noctis was Home on his own, for an odd reason. 

He smiled lightly while thinking of them. Yes, they were such a common factor in his everyday life that he was only noticing when one was missing. But Prompto was there. Sweet, understanding and caring Prompto, quiet but present. His presence was different from the rest of the furniture around in those moments, at least for Ignis, and it helped him to stay calm and to not feel so uncomfortable in the sort-of-tense silence. The golden candelabra, visually the most humanized piece he knew among all other people, his three candles lit with a very soft flame each, quiet and looking at the two of them with a bit of shyness but great understanding, and quite a lot of surprise, but at least it was not the startling shock the rest seemed to be in. He could not blame anyone about the shock, but the wide eyes and the opened mouths and how tense they were made the already tense air tenser and it was not very helpful. He thanked the Astrals that Prompto and his soft sun-like presence existed, and that he could casually glance at the candelabra from time to time to calm a little.

It was not that the tension was terrible. The silence that lacked Tick Tack was not bad. It was a bit uncomfortable, he did not deny that, but it was not necessarily _bad_. It was one of those silences that follow a moment of intimacy; some sort of…comfortable discomfort.  
He remembered about the night of intruders and daemons, when he had attempted to escape and Gladiolus had saved him from a certain death at the hands of daemons, and Ignis had decided to give up his only opportunity of freedom only to return to the castle and medically aid the beast so he would not die. Both had saved each other’s lives the same night, right after attempting to murder one another. Ironic.  
There were plenty of similitudes with that night and this moment at the library, but it also held a lot of differences. 

On the differences he liked to note that nobody was bleeding. Nobody had dragged the other down a staircase. Nobody had gripped at his throat so violently that it turned his neck into one giant bruise that would last weeks before fading. Nobody had thrown the fist through windows, and nobody had jumped off a fourth floor. Nobody had fought any daemons, and nobody had been at risk of dying. Well…he had been at risk, but the situations were entirely different.  
Another difference was that he was not feeling as terrible as that night. The Astrals damn, he thought about it once more and still could not recall any other night in which he felt more awful than during that one, not even the day he first was caged prisoner. During the night of daemons, he had felt everything he had kept bottled plus the events of that day, and it had overwhelmed him to the point of emotional agony; he had been angry at everyone and himself in first place, and profoundly sad, and he had felt the most defeated he had ever experienced, the most humiliated, the most miserable. Terribly, agonizingly miserable. He had felt weak, powerless. He had felt…so profoundly, so painfully abandoned. So abandoned. 

This night, at the library, he only felt…a bit tired. He was not happy or excited or feeling like dancing or jumping out in joy, but he did not feel as awfully miserable as that night. He was a bit worn out, a little achy, but satisfied. A bit content. 

It was already night. Unlike that other night, the library was better illuminated; back then he had counted with only one fireplace, but the library had many lights to keep the room well lit. Due to the darkness outside, the interior was painted by the lights with a layer of red, orange, and yellow colors, adopting an essence of comfortable warmth. There was something awfully cozy and comfortable about the library that made him feel even pampered, unlike that night; abandoned and cold and lonely and miserable. Maybe it was because of the soft sofas and chairs, or the sensation of being in a safe place, or maybe that nobody had attempted against his life on purpose, or maybe the books, but he felt a bit too comfortable. Gladiolus had not said a single thing, but he felt very well accompanied, and that made him very comfortable.

Like that other night, there were some furniture surrounding them and staring, impressed and a bit shocked, and none dared to speak a single thing or make a single sound further than necessary, and only attended to whatever Ignis asked for, with wide eyes. Unlike that night, none seemed terrified. Shocked, of course, but not scared. None of them were attending to bring bloodstained cloths and vases with water and alcohol or vials of potions, because nobody had bled. Thank the Astrals. 

Another thing to note to the similitudes was that he was sewing one of Gladio’s clothing. Differences, this was not a shirt, and it was not blood stained or cut. It was a simple mending of a button.  
Another similitude, Gladio was shirtless. A difference, this time Ignis paid attention to the beast’s body.  
The beast was always wearing a shirt, sleeves down all the time (at least while Ignis was present), and the only time he had it off, it was not precisely the best moment to stare at him. That night, Ignis had been beaten, had run around to literal exhaustion, had been beaten again, had put himself through ridiculous quantities of adrenaline and fear, then had been beaten again, only to end up walking back to the castle. Counting all the feelings of misery and defeat previously mentioned plus the physical pain and exhaustion, not to say the room had been mostly dark as opposite to the library moment, it was simply natural for Ignis to not have paid attention. Mostly, as well, thanks to the fact that the awful way he was feeling back then made him avoid looking in the beast’s direction for most of the night. Unlike the library moment. 

Ignis had not noticed until only then that his fur was not entirely even. Ignis had assumed that all of Gladiolus’ body was brown fur, but, now that he paid attention, there was a big part of his body that was pitch black rather than dark brown. It took a long while to notice it, since it was already night, and while the library was well illuminated it was not like daylight. Not to speak about his own tiredness. But it was there; Gladiolus’ fur was black on his back and arms, and a small part of his chest. Ignis had not wanted to stare for too long, but the small glimpses he had gotten here and there had called his curiosity. It was a bit weird, to find something unexpected, even if as unimportant like a different color of fur. Still, the man did not want to seem rude, so he had yet not pointed anything out about it. 

Another similitude, he was very sleepy…  
Still, it was not as awful as that night. Back then, Ignis had been so exhausted in so many ways that he could vaguely remember the scene. It was blurry and echo-y, like it had been a dream, because he had been partly asleep all along it. In the library, while sleepy and tired, it was not as bad. At least he was a little more awake than when Gladio woke up, about half an hour prior to this…moment.

The furniture still stared at him when they were not staring at the half-asleep Gladio on the sofa. The silence was profound, almost tangible. And Ignis only continued to sew at the cloth he was holding, or at least to pretend he was doing so.  
The first time he met the furniture, he thought there would never be a much weirder moment in his life…  
And there he was. Sat at a chair in a giant royal library looking after a beast he had hummed to sleep. 

 

After Gladiolus had fallen asleep, all that Ignis could do was to stay there and continue caressing through his fur and continue to hum for him. Gladio had requested, sounding drunken and entirely lost in himself, that he continued to do that, so Ignis complied. He was somewhat scared that if he stopped humming, Gladiolus would wake up out of anger and the beast would break free again and really harm him this time. Even when Gladiolus was deep asleep (and even _snoring_. Astrals, the beast _snored_ , and it was awkward, unexpected, silly, and a bit of a…naïve gesture?), Ignis was too scared at the thought of the beast breaking free to stop humming or stroking his hair, so he continued almost mechanically, for an entire hour, for more than an hour, and even when Ignis himself started falling asleep.

Sat there, with Gladio’s head on his lap, the leg so numb he literally could not feel it anymore, and the beast profoundly asleep, Ignis had started to feel sleepy as well. After his adrenaline had rocketed to the skies, his energy hit bottom rock. Like the exhaustion was not enough (and, the Six damn, it was _more_ than enough), the entire moment was rather…domestic. The silence was incredibly soothing, and there was something about the library that made him feel…like he was on the inside of a shelter, except the shelter is made of petals; peaceful, put away of the world, but not caged, rather…safe. And his nude fingers roaming through Gladio’s fur…the impossibly soft, silk-like, thick, incredibly beautiful fur…so soft, so warm, so awfully comfortable…

And to make it even worse, his own voice was lullabying himself like it had done with Gladiolus. He felt a bit ridiculous, because he was aware that being sung to was entirely different to sing for, and he had no reasons for his own voice to have such an effect on himself, but there he was, with all odds and actions against him, crowned by his own humming. Ignis fell asleep multiple times for a second or two, but he was shaken awake when he noticed he was falling to a side or forwards in his place. His humming would go quiet and weak, his head would fall forwards shaking him awake, and he would open the eyes again, not stopping to hum. And whenever he was shaken awake by himself, his hands continued their task and his throat retook a proper humming.

It was around an hour and half just doing this, singing for Gladio and caressing his head and hair, that the beast woke up. The first thing he did was to very, very slowly come awake. Ignis stopped humming to talk to him a few stray encouraging words.  
And when Gladio managed to come awake, the first thing he did was to try to push Ignis off him.  
Not the nicest of gestures after such an intimate moment like it is to literally put his own life to risk for him, but one that Ignis understood and comprehended. He had not expected any other thing. Now awake and fully conscious, he understood that Gladiolus could feel embarrassed, and embarrassment could sometimes be projected as some sort of anger, so that Gladio tried pushing him off, that was comprehensible and he did not complain.

Gladio did not manage to do much; as soon as his hand touched Ignis, it moved away as if it had landed on a flame. The beast proceeded to shake the head and try to stretch the body, trying to stand up and get away of Ignis, avoiding any eye contact. Still, as weakened, entirely exhausted and barely able to move yet, Gladio was doing a poor job trying to move off him. Ignis helped him with the encouraging words, and, when Gladio was able to come up to his hands, Ignis, suffering of the worst leg cramp he had ever experienced in his life, could help him with part of his weight only enough so they could make it to the nearest sofas. Gladio choose one and lied down there. When Ignis tried to touch him again, Gladio put a hand up and whined, burying the face in a pillow, like a scared animal or child. Ignis was not sure of why he had received such reaction (he had…hoped, or at least had thought that a few touches were soothing and reassuring and that Gladio was liking them, but apparently not…?), but he respected it and decided to not touch him anymore.

Still, it felt bad to just leave and abandon him like this. So he stayed, and decided to sit on the chair across him. He was not sure of what else he could do or how else he could help, but being there was already some help, he guessed. Some company, even when doing nothing, was always…reassuring. He guessed. He had never…had that sort of company when he had struggled before, but….he assumed that just sitting there in silence was entirely different than leaving him alone.  
He watched Gladio sleep a little longer, or at least lie there doing nothing, face usually hidden. During his rest, the beast had growled as if uncomfortable, and he started pulling from his shirt. Ignis was aware that, while not angered anymore, some instincts were still showing in something harmless, so he understood Gladio was not seeing how bad he was pulling from his shirt. The man decided to stand up and help him remember he only had to undo the buttons, and helped him take the shirt off, even when Gladio still behaved rather wary of him, like he did not want Ignis to touch him at any cost. 

Gladio ended up throwing the shirt at a side, turn on his side giving Ignis his back, and go back to rest. Just like that, without a word or a glance. Ignis still tried to figure a way to help, but assumed Gladio only needed a bit more sleep. So Ignis did as little as he could do, and he went to put things in order again. While Gladio rested, Ignis went to the spot where Gladiolus had raged, and started gathering the books he threw off the shelves. In total silence, still tired and emotionally drained, Ignis went down on his knees to pick the books up. He reviewed them one by one to make sure they were unharmed, and searched for their place in the shelves. An attendant (turned a small shelf ladder) helped him in complete silence; the only words were a whispered ‘Thank you’ from Ignis, and both got to work in silence. 

After fixing the mess of books, Ignis reached for Gladio’s cloak and his own, both scattered across the floor. When he looked at Gladio’s, he found the sight to be a little sad for a reason he could not explain. Perhaps it reminded him of the scared side of Gladio being overwhelmed by the bestial one. The dark blue cloak, abandoned, thrown there on the floor.  
Ignis thought that it could have reminded him of his dad; when he had been prisoner at the cell, his only company had been his dad’s thorn cape. He insisted and tried to convince himself that Gladio’s cloak made him sad because of that, because it was easier than accepting it made him sad because of something Gladiolus-related.  
And still he knew it was entirely because of something Gladiolus-related. 

With both in hands, he returned to Gladiolus to check on him, but he was still resting. If asleep or not, he had no idea, but he did not want to mess with him. Ignis felt he still had to stay there, so he looked for something else to occupy himself in. He noticed that the clasps of Gladio’s cloak had come off; they were meant to be stapled on the tips of the collar, and the little chain could be put on and off as one pleased. It was not something he could sew…but he could replace it.  
He asked more furniture, exactly like back on the night of daemons, for a sewing kit (“buttons included, if I may”), and he started putting order again; he put his own cloak back on, due to the coldness that was getting worse as night replaced day, and he put Gladio’s to wait at the arm of the chair while he reached for the abandoned shirt. When Ignis took it and started folding it, he noticed that the shirt was made specifically for Gladiolus; while similar, his body shape was not the same than that of a man, not to say he was much bigger and tougher. The shirts seemed to have been made from other shirts to fit him just fine.

Which meant somebody had made these precisely for him…  
He wondered who. He assumed it had to have been the attendants of the Citadel at some point of his past. Whatever his past hid.  
Ignis also noticed, after all those months, that Gladiolus’ shirts were always buttoned. He realized that Gladiolus did not have shirts that could be put on and off like a sweater, only things with buttons. He guessed it made sense; pulling a shirt off him would be troubles with the horns, maybe even with the fangs. 

Ignis folded the shirt and put it to wait as well on a nearby table, and when the furniture brought him the sewing kit, he put himself to work. He took needle, thread and a button, and he took Gladio’s cloak to start working on it. It was while he worked on the cloak that he noticed the different coloring of Gladio’s fur. He had thought it normal when he had been toying with the hair of his head, because he had acquaintances with dark brown hair that had a stray lock of a lighter shade here and there or vice versa. But this was more than that; it was almost like a drawing. As he sewed and slowed the process on purpose, he took a casual glimpse here and there only to stare.

It was some moments later that Gladiolus turned onto his other side, facing him this time. He was blinking lazily. When he turned and Ignis found him awake, the human felt some sudden nervousness building in his stomach, and he pretended to be full focused in sewing, but he could not get rid of the tension.  
It was the intimacy. It was how intimate taming the beast so Gladiolus would come back was…it was how profoundly intimate that act had been what built this tension. He was aware, but still could not get rid of it.  
He decided to say and do nothing until Gladiolus would do so first. At least the beast would take the pace and whenever he spoke or did something, Ignis would know that was fine. Making a first move himself had the uncertainty on whether it would upset Gladiolus or not. 

When Gladio rolled on his side he still took moments to blink as if only to himself, before he looked up and made eye contact with the man.  
Ignis could swear Gladio’s eyes had never looked so big and bright…  
Maybe it was because the last time he saw them they were trembling tiny pupils or large and scary vertical lines, and now they were back to full humanity. Because his eyes had always been human; Ignis was aware his biology was entirely that of an animal, but his eyes…they had always held great humanity, in so many more ways than only the shape. The gleam on them, the color, the…gaze. It was profoundly human. Had always been.  
When Ignis found those eyes staring at him, it felt like the first time he looked at them. He could not help a smile; one had no idea how beautiful something can be until almost losing it and recovering it. Ignis had meant to stare away, but when they made eye contact, he simply could not. Gladio’s eyes…gods. Now that he could compare them to the bestial eyes, only then Ignis noticed how beautifully stunning Gladio’s eyes were in their normal state. Big, and gleamy, and innocent, and passionate, and curious. And with such a beautiful, stunning shade of brown, that could be amber under the correct light. A beautiful brown. Delicious like chocolate; warm like coffee or bread; firm like earth; nature-like, like wood. Brown. Brown, the most beautiful brown that could ever exist.

It was only during his admiration for Gladio’s eyes and realizing how much he really liked them that Ignis did break eye contact, and tried to focus in the cloak. He had fixed it five times already, except every time he finished he undid his job to start over again, pretending he had never finished. He had not wanted to leave the library until Gladiolus would be back to being alright, but he had nothing to do, and he did not want Gladiolus to wake up and find Ignis just sat there doing nothing and watching him. So Ignis needed an excuse of something to be doing, and sewing was the only thing he could think about that would not look stupid or suspicious.

The beast still stared some moments before he came back to full consciousness. He stared around, noticing the way Ignis broke eye contact as if too shy to keep it up. When it did not make sense to think of Ignis being able to experience shyness, how incongruous that was, Gladio blinked and realized he was awake, and he started coming back full to his senses after his…rest of sorts. And it was as he started sitting up that he remembered.  
Ignis staying at the library when he lost it. Ignis nagging him…imprudently chiding him…and…  
Ignis reaching for him. Putting his own life to risk. Aware, knowing, conscious of it. And still reaching for him. Ignis telling him he was…a good person. And kind, and sweet, and…that Ignis liked him.  
That Ignis wanted him back…  
And Ignis hands on him…  
And Ignis…singing. To him. For him. Only for him.  
Ignis humming to lullaby him to sleep, and Ignis not minding to stay with him, and Ignis letting him rest his head on his lap, and Ignis singing to him, Ignis’ beautiful voice humming, Ignis singing to him… 

The only thing that crossed his mind was a little ‘Oh’ and nothing else. It had been…surreal. Gladio had thought it had been a very inappropriate but beautiful while also frightening dream, but…there was Ignis. Sat on a chair across him, sewing. Sewing the way only he knew how to; like it’s art. Soft, motherly, tenderly.  
Gladio, still in shock of realization that this all had really happened, started sitting up. He put a hand to his head when pain hit him as he moved, and by the corner of his eye he caught Ignis ignoring his work to look up at him, as if trying to figure if Gladio needed some help. The mere gesture had Gladio’s heart racing madly inside his chest, and the beast felt his own face burning. He tried casually covering it, but he remembered he was full of fur and there was no way he could blush anyway. 

He let go of his head and stared somewhere else, and his head lowered. He felt like a chided and very regretful child. He could not remember much of it, but he could recall little glimpses; he was sure some bits of whatever had happened were missing, and some of the memories he had were blurry and echo-y. But some others were intact; a bit hurried, but they were there. Ignis’ face was everywhere in his memory. In the clearest memories, he could see his shoes instead. But he could clearly remember and he acknowledged the main intention; Ignis had stayed there to tame the beast, and make him recover himself. Ignis had…been there while Gladio was taken over by the beast. And he had helped. And he had risked himself for it. And he had been…more than only nice. He had been…he had…  
…maybe Gladio was only seeing things, but he had felt, for a moment, that Ignis had been…loving with him. Not in a romantic or friendly way. Simply…loving. From a person to another. 

…what on Eos was going on?

Gladio sat there in entire silence, not knowing what to do now. He did not want to thank Ignis; for some reason, the idea frightened him. He did not want to leave and offend him and be rude. Yet he did not focus much on what to do; he was pretty lost in his thoughts and the shock that he only sat there, oblivious to time, and only staying in his head while Ignis sewed.  
Like that other night, they sat there together in complete silence and tension. Except this time, it was…different. 

It took much more minutes before any of them did anything. It was Gladio who reacted first and broke the frozen moment. It was as he was taken out of his shock and he saw by the corner of his eyes his own arm, exposed and nude, that he looked down at himself, and he found the shirt was gone. Panic senselessly caught him and he gasped, felt his heart skip a beat, and he almost stood up from his place. Ignis left his own work too, a bit startled from the sudden panic, and watched the beast look at his own body, as if not understanding how it got there. Ignis watched him with attention, a little insecure. Gladio looked around after staring at himself, and he stopped when he found his shirt neatly folded on a nearby table. He gestured to stand up and reach for it, but he froze in his place, only looking at it. 

He looked back at Ignis, and when he found the man staring his heart sped up again and he broke eye contact, lowering the head, but finding his nude torso made him close the eyes.  
“…Shiva curse me” Gladio whispered, and the way he sounded so innocently ashamed and embarrassed and even sincerely sad made Ignis untense almost entirely; the shock of seeing a furious and entirely unleashed bestial-mode Gladio was still fresh in his mind, so to see him so broken down and so submissive…it was weird. And a bit heartbreaking. Ignis preferred this side of him, but it was still not something he enjoyed of, watching Gladiolus so sad and panicked. “I’m…sorry.”  
“What for?” Ignis asked, trying to make it casual without making it _too_ casual. “I see nothing wrong.”  
“I don’t…” Gladio started, quiet again and still avoiding eye contact. “…I mean…I don’t like…” he tried to speak, but after some moments he shook the head with a heavy sigh. “…doesn’t matter.”

_You wouldn’t understand…you’ve never been ugly…_

Ignis only nodded at him, and did not give time for Gladio to stand up when the man was doing it himself, and reached for the shirt. He offered it to Gladiolus, hoping that the gesture would not make him angry. On the opposite, Gladio’s ears lowered and he looked as embarrassed and sad as before, but he accepted it. Ignis went back to sit on his place, eyes scanning the beast. Ignis was not sure if it made sense, but Gladiolus’ body language was telling him that the beast was feeling insecure and exposed. Sort of like a young woman being stripped and seen for the first time by a stranger or to be humiliated in a public space.  
The comparison made Ignis feel that it was not crazy to think Gladiolus really could be sad. Maybe he was feeling the same than the comparison…

Gladio started putting the shirt on, quiet. Ignis stared at him and tried to pretend he was still busy sewing.  
“…I…had no idea your fur was not even” he commented after a very long silence, trying to lighten the mood. Gladio took a moment before he realized Ignis was talking to him (like there was anybody else…), and he turned to look at him. It took yet another moment before he processed the words, and he blinked at the man, confused. Ignis smiled lightly at him and lowered the eyes, pretending to focus on the needle. “Your…your back. And your arms, and part of your chest. They’re covered by pitch black spots, unlike the rest of you.”  
“…oh” Gladio let out very quietly, continuing to slowly put on his shirt and staring down at himself again, looking at his arms. Still hating that Gladiolus was not his usual exasperating and joking self, Ignis tried to talk with him.  
“But it’s not like accidental spots” Ignis insisted. “It’s almost like a drawing done on purpose. Like a carefully traced pattern.”

Gladio looked at him some moments, as if wanting to analyze whether Ignis was making fun of him or not. The man only looked back some moments, offered a tiny smile, and looked down at his sewing work again. The beast lowered the eyes as well and started buttoning the shirt.  
“…uhm…yeah…” he let out weakly. “It’s…a birthmark…”  
Ignis nodded. Gladio looked at him, for once scared that Ignis would not buy the lie, but the man offered not reaction, accepting that fact. And, well, it was not entirely a lie, if Gladio thought about it. From the moment he was born, much longer before that, it was in his destiny to get it one day. Every Amicitia was born to become the Sworn Shield. Every Amicitia had to get the tattoo. It was their unmovable fate. So, in some way, even if just metaphorically, Gladio _had_ been born with the tattoo drawn on him.  
He buttoned his shirt slowly and distractedly, lost in his own head.  
“I think it’s very pretty.”

It took Gladio longer than he would have wanted. He still continued buttoning long seconds after that comment, and he took quite a while with each button. Gladio slowly and eventually processed the information, but it did not make sense, so he frowned in confusion and ended up turning to look at Ignis. The man was staring at him with his awfully beautiful eyes looking like those of a kid; innocent and expecting. The beast looked at him entirely confused and could only shake the head, whispering a very quiet ‘What?’.  
“Your birthmarks” Ignis said and smiled lightly at him again. “I think they’re very pretty.”  
Gladio saw Ignis’ lips moving accordingly to the words, and each sound matched the words. But he still took a moment to comprehend, because understand was something he could not. Ignis still stared at him some moments with that innocent expectation, but lowered the eyes and continued sewing, no more smile on him. Gladio was not sure of what to think or how to reply. It did not make sense, Ignis complimenting him. At least, it did not make sense that the compliment was regarding his looks. Ignis had given implicit compliments to his battle skills and direct ones to his knowledge of flowers, but his looks? Gladio had it for entirely sure that this was just Ignis trying to be kind, even if he had to lie for it. The comment hurt. But the intention had been good. He gave a tiny smile at the man, but he was unable to say any ‘Thanks’ because it did not feel sincere and he did not want to lie.

Ignis saw him smile but returned his attention to the cloak. The man seemed to have misunderstood his silence or to have felt bad for getting no answer, but when Gladio tried to thank him again, it couldn’t bloom because of how false it felt. It was not that he was not grateful for Ignis’ intentions, it was that he could not see Ignis’ words as sincere, so a positive answer to it would be equally fake. But he did not want to leave Ignis looking as upset; he _was_ trying to keep things cool, and he was trying to be kind. This behavior was entirely new in Ignis; he had been nice to Gladiolus, but he always kept a knot of sass or coldness in himself and his words or actions or even just his eyes. But not right now; in those moments, Ignis was almost a different person. Soft, humble gaze, kindness and politeness and frail care and some…fragile air to himself. The least that Gladiolus wanted was to make him feel bad in any way, especially when he behaved like this. 

Thinking about Ignis’ current behavior with him, Gladio only rolled with the first thing that crossed his head as a reply.  
“I like yours, too.”  
Ignis looked up from the cloth in his hands to make eye contact with the beast. He looked rather confused, but not too shocked. Gladio felt his face burning again, and he looked away for a moment, a hand coming to scratch at his neck in a usual nervous tic.  
“Uhm…your birthmarks” Gladio specified, and pointed at his own face with one of his claws so to keep it clear. “They’re…I think- I think they’re pretty…”  
They stayed quiet some moments. Ignis was still looking at him with that rather blank expression that did not seem any cold or judging. Gladio felt a little uncomfortable, but Ignis gave him a tiny smile and a little nod.  
“Thank you” he said softly in almost a murmur, before he focused again in the needle and thread.

A bit awkward and uncomfortable, Gladio only looked at him some moments, stared away, stared back and repeated for a few moments. He was entirely quiet, knowing what he wanted and needed to say, but not finding the way to start, or the courage enough to let it out just yet. He sat there on his place, arms rested on his thighs, while Ignis sewed in silence in front of him. Sometimes, Gladio threw random glances at him, but Ignis did not seem to return the gesture. There were so many questions in Gladio’s head, but he did not dare ask any. It was still…strange. Even awake and lucid, Gladio found what had happened…absolutely unbelievable. It was…too much. He knew Ignis was kind, but to have done such a thing, put himself to risk of literally dying, just for a kind gesture…it was unbelievable. Gladio was still rather in shock about it and could not finish understanding.

The silence lingered, and Ignis noticed the Tick Tack was still missing. He looked slightly away and his eyes found Prompto standing nearby, a bit timid and looking at them with worry, locking eye contact when he saw Ignis looking at him. The human gave him a reassuring smile, and Prompto stared down and away as if not knowing how to react. Ignis mentally thanked his presence, and continued sewing.  
“…I am an awful host” Gladio muttered, and Ignis looked up at him. The man was expecting some conversation of this matter, so he got prepared to answer, but Gladio continued before he could say anything. “You’re the guest, yet this is the second time I put you to work on fixing my stuff.”  
Ignis blinked at him, frozen for a moment. That had not been the conversation he had been expecting. He looked down at the button he was sewing, at his own hands, still nude, and then he looked back up at Gladiolus again. He gave a tiny smile and a shake of the head.  
“You did no harm to the cloak” Ignis said, and retook his sewing. “Only the clasps got a bit damaged. This that I’m doing, it’s not fixing. It’s…a change, I guess” he looked up at Gladio and pushed his glasses onto his nose. “I thought…a button could be much more comfortable for you.”

Gladio did not reply further a sigh and a nod, staring away once more. Ignis stared at him a little longer, blinking a few times, unsure of what to say or what to expect from the beast. Minutes passed, and Ignis continued subtly undoing his work only to start it over again. The furniture around was not sure if it was alright to interrupt or who to look at, not even Iris or Prompto, present and only expecting for…whatever else should happen.  
Similar to the night of daemons, one of them insisted on wanting to make conversation.  
A difference, and very strangely, this time it was Ignis who was trying.

“A Titan rosary” Ignis pointed out and Gladio turned to look at him, quiet. None said anything, and the man gave him a glance as well, pretending to sew. “I had noticed it long ago.”  
“Oh…” Gladio, not sure of what he was supposed to reply to that, looked down at his own chest. By reflex, one of his hands moved up and it softly gripped the cross. “Yeah…” he looked away, head still down, and sighed subtly. “It…gives me strength…” the beast shrugged a shoulder as he spoke, head down and a sad voice. “…not…not the physical one…I don’t need…more of that one…”  
Ignis stayed quiet and only blinked. ‘I don’t need that one’; hence, he did need of the internal one. Ignis was surprised at the revelation; Gladio’s head down, his body language reflecting but mere sadness, and his words…he had seen the beast become vulnerable in front of him (heck, he had _slept_ not only in his presence, but also resting the head on his leg), but this was…a different kind of vulnerability. To sleep in presence of Ignis was a physical one.  
This was the beast's heart, entirely exposed for anything to touch it, incredibly fragile, and already damaged. 

Ignis only nodded after he realized he was staring too much and returned to his sewing task. The silence was there yet again. Ignis took a moment to look again at Prompto, and for once he felt as if though the roles had inversed; it was usually Prompto who gave him a puppy-like stare as if waiting for approval or encouragement, and Ignis tended to give him a reassuring smile and a nod. But in that exchange of glances, Ignis felt terribly…small. A bit lost. He felt like a child that needs to look back at his father or big brother because he’s chickening out and needs the courage. And not failing to his stare, Prompto, taken a bit off guard, immediately shut the mouth, stood straight, and tried giving him his firmest stare without being tough, and nodded at him softly. Ignis stared down, a bit nervous. 

Gladio stayed quiet as well, not looking in the direction of the man. It was…too much.  
Looking at Ignis was overwhelming. And this time it had nothing to do with his looks.  
Gladio had enough with having to deal with how awfully good looking he was, but now it was…almost impossible for him to look at Ignis. The man had…done too much. Instead of feeling content and ecstatic like he wished he could be feeling, Gladio felt almost the entire opposite; he was hating this. He did not hate what Ignis did, he hated the mere fact that he did it. It was much simpler to deal with being rejected than this limbo of sorts, where Ignis treated him well but simply could and would not end up fully grasping the concept of the human side of Gladio. No matter how much Ignis treated him like a person or understood he had a ‘human side’, no matter how well he could understand that, to Ignis, Gladio would _always_ be an animal, and the worst part was that he was not mistaken.

Though, currently, that was the last thing he was focusing on. What stole most of his attention was the burning sensation all over his head. It was not ache and it was not coming from the inside, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the few bruises he accidentally left on himself. His scalp felt like it had been set on fire, or like it was about to burst into flames. The invisible fire marked a spot of his face, on a cheek, and there were endless of them on his scalp, brushed from the front to the back part of his head. There were burning spots behind his ears, especially the left one.  
And the invisible fire marks all had the shape of human hands.  
Gladio could not help but close the eyes and place a hand on his forehead as if suffering from insufferable headache. What he would have given for that to be the case; at least headache could be treated, but how could he explain to anyone that he was suffering from something…less physical that was entirely physical at the same time? How could he explain that the burning on his scalp was not literal burning that could be healed with pomade?

It was all Ignis’ fault. Gladio mentally cursed him; the man was all fire, even in the name. Of course this was to happen. There could have been a moment or two in his life after the garden stroll when Gladio had wished for Ignis to maybe touch him a bit so maybe that could fix a bit of his loneliness, but now that it had happened…in the name of the Six, in the name of each Astral individually, it was _too much._ Ignis’ hands on his head, caressing over and over…they had felt heavenly, angelical, even sacred at first. But now that he was back to consciousness in all senses, it was the entire opposite. Gladio mentally cursed himself; he tagged himself idiotic, for it was obvious that the touch of a man made of fire would burn. Mere logic. And yet, he had wished it one or two times. There was the result; his head was on fire, and there was absolutely nothing that could fix it or calm him.

His eyes were tightly shut and he was shaking slightly while holding his head. And like he had not enough with the physical sensation of being on fire, there _was_ headache. And the reason drummed in his ears, in his brain, in the back and front of his head, and part of it echoed into his heart.  
The voice that was like a blazing green dot that danced in a black space, filling it with its color, bouncing up and down gently, floating. Absolutely, stupidly beautiful. A voice so beautiful it could fix hearts, stop wars, and bring light into eternal night. It was sweet, but not like a caramel. More like a morning coffee, or the caress of silk against nude legs, or a pair of goddess hands on the face.  
It was not the first time he ever heard Ignis hum. The thing is, the first time had been an absolute accident, and Gladio had been so moved and so captivated by the sound of it that he had to go away and avoid the man for hours. And the greatest difference was that the first time, Ignis had been humming to himself.  
This time he had done it _for Gladio._  
Not nearby him. Not in his presence. Not in front of him. _For_ him, _to_ him.

Gladio had had enough with Ignis’ kind act of staying behind to calm him, but his terrifically sweet words, his hands on his head, and his voice still drumming in his ears…this was far too much. Too much. Gladio had wished for a bit of love, not this mountain that was smashing him into the ground and crushing every one of his bones. And it was doing no good to him; one thing was to receive something good, and something else was to be overloaded of it. Everything in excess can damage, care included. It had to come step by step, not all at once.  
This was no good. Ignis had given too much in a very short time. There was not enough space inside Gladio to process it all and swallow it without suffocating. 

“…is everything in order, Gladio?” Ignis called, interrupting his thoughts. His mere voice was a pain; only hearing that coffee-morning-kind-of-sweet voice reminded him of its singing, and that was the only thing he could hear for a moment. It drummed from inside his head against it and made the headache worse. Gladio opened the eyes but found it impossible to look up or put the hand away of his head. “…you still look in pain. Shall I…help, somehow?”  
“N-no” Gladio hurried, still not looking his way. “It’s fine. This is actually…” he paused and seemed to hesitate whether to continue or not. All the furniture and Ignis were staring at him, attentive, a bit concerned, expecting him to continue. Gladio still hesitated a bit more, not making eye contact with the man but finally letting go of his head. “…it doesn’t matter.”

Ignis and the furniture all untensed at the words, but none complained. They returned to the silence, and Ignis, once again, continued to sew particularly slow on the big button. Gladio sometimes scratched or touched at his head as if wanting to get rid of something only he could feel or see on it, and Ignis wondered what the trouble could be. He hoped he had not messed with his hair and it had made him uncomfortable, as senseless as it sounded. He stayed quiet and finished sewing the button for like the seventh time, so he, again, started undoing his work as subtly as possible. Gladio still pulled at his shirt here and there, whether to adjust it on himself or as if trying to get rid of it, Ignis was not sure. Prompto was still looking at them insecurely, and Ignis gave him another glance, but none communicated anything through the eyes.

Some moments later, Gladio put a hand to his face and caressed his temples with his fingers, as if exhausted. Ignis looked at him with the head slightly lowered, feeling like a kid who knows he did wrong and disappointed dad, which is far worse than angering him. He swallowed and tried to reassure himself that it had all gone okay and there were no reasons for Gladio to be upset at him. And on a second thought, Ignis tried reminding to himself that whether Gladio was upset at him or not did not have to upset him. And on a third thought, he remembered that he actually did care to a certain degree. He had called him a friend, and it had been…sincere. So, in a way, he did care. He lifted the gaze again when he heard Gladio sighing loudly.  
“Ignis…” the beast called, caressing his temples a last time before letting go, and looking up at the man sat across him. “I’m sorry.”  
Ignis tried to say something and managed to open the mouth and take a first breath in, but Gladio continued.  
“I’m sorry” he repeated. “I didn’t want…I didn’t mean to…lose it in front of you. Nearby you” he looked away. “…against you.”  
The man stayed quiet. The needle and the cloak in his hands rested on his lap, forgotten and unimportant.  
“I…had no idea you’d be here” Gladio said bitterly. “And we never know when a petal falls. Sometimes it’s six months, sometimes just three, and…” he sighed. “I’m not…too conscious in that state. I…come here almost by instinct. Had I known you were here, maybe I’d have tried to refrain myself better and…give you time to go, and…”

He paused yet again, stared at nowhere into the void, before releasing tension into another sigh.  
“I could have hurt you” Gladio murmured. “More than just that. I’m sorry.”  
Ignis said nothing at first. He looked at Gladio with eyes that seemed to say he was expecting anything but that, even though he had been waiting for this sort of conversation to happen sooner or later. If he expected gratitude, awkwardness, rejection, he was not sure. But an apology was a bit startling. Ignis pushed his glasses closer to his eyes, staring slightly away.  
“You do not have to apologize” Ignis said softly. “What happens to you is…” _natural_ , he thought he could say, but found that it was not appropriate. He had thought about comparing how nobody could blame a bee for stinging, or a dog from growling at what it feels to be a threat, but he guessed Gladio could take it as Ignis comparing him to an animal. Ignis only meant to give examples of nature, the least he wanted was to trigger him again. Sure, Gladio was back to consciousness, but that did not secure that he was not sensitive to the curse anymore. Thinking at the speed of light, Ignis changed his words. “…not something you can control. You should not apologize for something that happens on its own. You do not control it.”  
“Exactly” Gladio said, much more firmly, and he looked up at the man, making him instinctively turn as well, and both made eye contact. Gladio’s gaze was firm like his voice. “And exactly because of that, I want you to never do it again.”

Ignis blinked and his lips parted slightly at that, taking in a deep breath as if to reply but no sound came from his mouth. Gladio kept his firm stare on him, and the man only looked at him with confusion and some slight sadness.  
“…what?” Ignis managed to ask, quietly.  
“Staying with me” Gladio said, lower and staring away. “Staying with me when I’m in that…state” he looked again at the man. “You won’t do that again. Ever. Did you understand?”  
Ignis looked at him with confusion and a slight frown. He shook the head in tiny movements and tried speaking, calling a ‘Gladio’, but being interrupted again.  
“If it ever happens again that a petal falls and you’re still here” Gladio said, back to being firm, “you will _not_ do it again. I want you to go somewhere else, hide and lock yourself somewhere, and don’t talk to me until the next day, or two days if necessary.”  
“But why?” Ignis interrupted him this time, hating to be lectured and hating to not be on control of the situation. Only moments ago the beast was napping on the sofa and apologizing while Ignis kept watch, it was ridiculous to be forced to subdue once again. “Was it harmful? Did I do wrong?”  
“It’s not that, Ignis, and you know it” Gladio said, staring away for a moment. “Just don’t. Please.”

Ignis stayed quiet, still looking at him. He wanted to give a reply, but Gladio looked at him again with firm eyes that were not willing to accept a ‘No’ for answer. The man shut the mouth again and stared back down at the cloak in his hands. He was trying to let out an agreement, but it did not feel sincere and he could not manage to push it out.  
“So next time a petal falls” Ignis started, “I leave you alone to destroy the library and harm yourself in both the emotional and physical way” Gladio had started sighing and replying, but Ignis, stubborn, continued. “That sounds lovely and pretty logical. Why help you when I can sit back and watch you kill yourself? Enjoyable.”  
“Ignis, it’s not that” Gladio interrupted, raising the voice. “It’s not for me, and you know what I mean with all this” the way he was phrasing it made Ignis wonder if Gladio was scared of saying it that other way aloud, because he knew what the beast meant. “Listen, I’ve…I’ve handled this for five years. I’ve handled dozens of petal falls in five years and everything has gone alright. I’ve never destroyed the library, I’ve never killed myself, I’ve got experience with this” he looked up to make eye contact with Ignis again, but his firmness seemed to hesitate a bit as he spoke. “I’ve done this by myself for five years, I can do it perfectly fine on my own.”  
“That you _can_ do it on your own doesn’t mean you _should_ , Gladio” Ignis replied, frowning slightly. “You’ve been doing it alone because you had no option; now you do.”  
“And I reject the option” Gladio said loudly. “I won’t argue this, Ignis.”

“Neither will I” Ignis replied, still frowning.  
“If what you want is for me to say it aloud, fine” Gladio said as if angered. He paused and looked up at the man. “I don’t want to hurt you. Happy?”  
“And you won’t” Ignis argued back as if ignoring the small part of mordacity. “You did absolutely no harm to me” which was a lie hidden under his sleeve in the form of a bruise, but Ignis ignored it as it was not a major injury, “and everything turned out perfectly.”  
“This time” Gladio remarked. “Listen, every time…the less petals are left on the rose, the worse it gets to me; to us” Gladio explained. “This time we had luck; nothing can tell us for sure that next time will be as peaceful” he paused for a second. “What if next time I can’t control myself? What if next time your…” _sweet words, your warm hands, your beautiful, oh so precious green eyes looking at me with so much compassion and care…_ “…actions are not enough, and I end up…” he sighed tremblingly. “What if next time goes wrong?” after the shy and scared whisper, he looked up at Ignis and replaced the fear with a frown, firm once more. “I can’t go with the risk, Ignis. If nothing happened this time it was but luck, not a good job” Ignis almost seemed offended at that, but Gladio did not let him talk and continued; “I can’t and won’t go with the risk, Ignis. I swore to keep you safe, last thing happening should be you getting hurt because of me.”

Ignis stayed quiet, frowning at him. The furniture still looked at them unsure of whether it was best to interrupt or not, but nobody did anything and let them stare at each other. Ignis kept eye contact with the beast for a moment before letting out a bitter chuckle and staring away, shaking the head.  
“You have to promise me, Ignis” Gladio told him, as firm as before. “Listen, I’m grateful for what you did. It was…” Gladio paused and sighed. He had considered telling Ignis about how it was the first time he managed to control the beast in such a way, how this had been incredibly soft in comparison to the usual. But telling that to Ignis was giving him reasons to be stubborn and insist on doing it again if the opportunity happened. So Gladio saved it, did not mind looking like an ungrateful jerk by not giving recognition to the man’s actions, and only spoke the necessary. “…I’m not saying you didn’t do good. But it was stupid. I’ve dealt with this myself for five years, and if I haven’t hurt anyone that’s precisely because I put myself apart to do it on my own” he stated and Ignis found sense in it, but still did not turn to look his way. “We had luck this time. But luck is not my forte. And it’s not yours, either.”

“Negative and negative always make a positive” Ignis debated back like that was the point at all. Gladio sighed and closed the eyes for a moment before replying.  
“If life was as simple…” he murmured, and changed his phrase. “Listen, I can do fine on my own. I’m alive and healthy and it only lasts a few hours” Ignis turned to look his way, apparently understanding the entire context of ‘a few hours’; Gladio could almost see in his eyes how easily he was comparing the minutes that took him to control the beast to the ‘few hours’ statement, and for the millionth time of his life he hated that Ignis was as smart and perceptive. “Promise me you won’t do it again. If a petal falls and you’re still here, you won’t come into the library, you’ll exit if you’re already here, you won’t look at me, and you won’t, for anything in life, in the name of the Six, no matter the circumstances, get close to me” he said the last parts slowly as if to give emphasis to every word of the sentence. Ignis was maintaining eye contact with him, and, for some reason he hated with his gut but could not name, the man felt his heart shrinking. He eventually looked away, frowning. “No matter what I say, what I do, or what I look like. Promise me you _won’t_ get close to me when I’m in that state, Ignis.”

Gladio’s stare and all the things it reflected, and his words, it made Ignis feel stupidly, senselessly, greatly sad. It pinched inside and messed with his entrails. He feared his eyes would get teary, and got angered at himself for getting this stupid sadness; maybe if it had a reason to be, he would not be ashamed, but not knowing how to name the source of the sadness he felt like a child and it was frustrating. His frown deepened.  
“Ignis, promise me” Gladio insisted.  
“…I promise to not be in the library in the moment that a petal falls” Ignis said rather slow and carefully, not looking his way.  
“Ignis” Gladio called in a voice that kept it very clear he was not buying it; Ignis had insisted so much on finding legal holes in everything Gladiolus stated that the beast was not falling for another one.  
“I don’t understand why you don’t want to be helped” Ignis said, putting the cloak down and looking up at Gladio. “If I’m dying of thirst and somebody offers me water, I accept it; I don’t go around saying it’s fine, I’ll find my own water on my own.”  
“Ignis-”  
“You said it usually lasts hours, I helped you to make it last only some minutes” Ignis argued. “And are you conscious of what you got to do in only a matter of minutes? Have you looked at your head? You’re bruised and scrapped, and you made a mess of the books of those shelves” he pointed with a finger. “What else do you do to yourself in this state? Do you scratch yourself to bleed? Do you let the beast bite down on you and claw at your own skin, and you let it go on for hours?”

Gladio tried to interrupt all along his words, but by that point he only sighed, shaking the head and staring at another side.  
“I didn’t need to see further some minutes to see the great, ridiculously harsh effort you have to give in order to keep yourself in control” Ignis continued. “You _passed out_ from mere exhaustion of the effort, are you telling me you let that go on for _hours_ , _alone?”_  
“And I’ve always done great” Gladio hissed back, losing his patience. “I don’t need you for this!”  
“That you don’t _need_ help doesn’t mean you should reject it when it’s being offered” Ignis argued back, “just like only because you _can_ doesn’t mean you _have_ to go through this alone.”  
“That’s not what I’m saying” Gladio said back, louder. “Ignis, you _know_ this isn’t about me, this is all about you! This is not for my own good, I’m trying to look after _your_ wellbeing, why do you insist on putting yourself to risk, do you want to die!? Is that your point? Are you doing it just to get an excuse to get killed?”  
“Dying is the last thing in my to-do list, thank you very much” Ignis argued back, as loud as Gladio was talking to him. “Why do _you_ insist on refusing help when it’s offered? It makes absolutely no sense; you get a way to ease the pain and control yourself much faster and much more easily than before, but no, it’s best to harm yourself and go through it alone.”  
“Well, yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying!”  
“It makes no sense!”

“What _you_ say makes no sense!” Gladio argued back. “You’re saying you’re fine with putting your _life_ to risk only so I get to nap? Do you not see it’s hard enough on me as it is to also have to deal with the doubt of whether I’ll hurt you or not?”  
“But you _won’t_ hurt me, Gladio, I-”  
“You don’t know that! We don’t know that!” Gladio yelled at him, standing up from the sofa and frowning down at the man. The furniture all tensed and moved a bit in their places as if wanting to get close and in between, scared that the beast had been triggered again, but none moved from their spot. “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be, Ignis, just stay away, it’s the only thing I’m asking from you! Promise me!”  
“I won’t, and you can’t make me” Ignis said and put the cloak at a side, standing up from his place as well to stand in front of the beast, mere inches apart, the chin up, head thrown back so he could keep eye contact with the beast, so brave it was reckless. “If I see somebody suffering and it is in my possibilities to aid, I don’t simply turn my back on them like it doesn’t concern me.”

“Well, it doesn’t!” Gladio said at him loud enough to almost pass as a yell.  
“Yes, it does!” Ignis argued back, fists tightly done.  
“How do you know if it’s your concern or not!?” Gladio lowered the head and Ignis felt him snorting on his face, and while it made him blink, he did not back away or lowered the chin.  
“Because I _worry_ , you big sack of noodles” Ignis yelled back at him, “and if I worry that’s because I care!”  
“And what do you care, Ignis!?” Gladio roared at him. Except it was as if that roar was the last one he had or as if the strength he had gathered so far had all escaped in it, because once said that he shut the eyes closed, the head went down and he started trembling. His fists were still made, but his shoulders and his ears moved down. Ignis’ frown started eventually turning from anger to confusion and concern, eyes not moving off Gladio, but the beast did not open the eyes nor did he move the head up again. He stood in front of the man, trembling, and his frown faded only to be replaced by furrowed eyebrows that, more than sadness, reflected some sort of burning pain. When he talked again, it was a trembling thread of a voice. “…what do you care?”

Ignis did not reply. He was not sure if he was understanding the change, and he kept the eyes on Gladio as if expecting to find some answer if he stared long enough. The furniture around them did not seem to understand either, and only stared only more shocked and confused than prior the argument. Into that silence, Gladio, head still down and eyes closed, sat back down, as if too weak to stand his weight any longer. He rested the elbows to his knees and put a hand to his face.  
“What do you care?” Gladio murmured. “I don’t get it. I try to understand, but I can’t” his voice was weak, but loud enough for Ignis to hear. The man was not staring at him, but rather nowhere at all on the far away wall. “It’s frustrating, Ignis. I don’t understand, and no matter how much I think about it I still don’t see any reasons.”  
“…for what?” Ignis forced himself to ask in a murmur after a long pause, eyes still lost in nowhere.  
“For you to care” Gladio replied, as weak as before. “Ever since you gave up your chance of freedom just to save me. And now this. I don’t understand. All that I’ve done to you…even after I’ve almost killed you so many times, after I almost killed your dad, after I locked you in a cell for weeks with no food or water or anything to cover even any basic necessities like you’re an animal” he started listing, and Ignis could not help but remember all of that, how he had felt, and he felt entirely ashamed of himself for the quantity of hatred he had felt back then. “I haven’t been good to you” Gladio said. Still, staring down as he was, Ignis could still not see his face. “I’ve caused harm to you, in so many ways more than just physically…so much harm, and discomfort” after a small pause, Gladio sighed heavily. “I haven’t been a friend to you. Not even a good host” it sounded painfully sad, like a lamentation. “You have no reasons to worry or care about me…”

Nobody said anything as immediate response. There was quiet once more, and Ignis compared it again to that night of daemons. It was like the entire opposite, and he confirmed it with this; Gladiolus breaking into sadness in front of him, opening the heart most possibly not even thinking about it, and Ignis uncomfortable because of a ‘had I known this before’ sort of guilt. Just like that other night, except with inversed roles. He hesitated some moments, thinking things through and thinking well about what to say before answering. He did not want to lie…again.  
The things he had said to Gladiolus to calm him when he was in beast mode…not everything had been completely true. He had to tell some things to Gladio that he would not have said in any other context, desperate for the beast to calm down. It had not felt right.  
…but, on second thought, it was not as much as lying. He had had to magnify and amplify some of the real thoughts he had of Gladiolus. But lie, not really. It all had been…sincere.  
Still, he did not want to have that sensation of guilt, and tried to come with the most sincere answer.

“…you don’t need to be a good host, or a friend, so I worry about you” Ignis whispered to him, finally looking down at Gladiolus. He took a step closer and thought about going down to his ankles to force Gladiolus to face him, but Ignis hesitated and did not do it out of fear. Fear, because…well, what if Gladiolus was crying? Ignis had never seen him like that, and, for some reason, the idea frightened him. Instead, he stood in front of him and moved a hand up to very subtly and softly ghost against the fur of Gladio’s head. “You don’t need to have a bond with someone or something to feel worry when they are in need, or to decide to help them despite the risks” he continued whispering, and his hand moved up so his fingertips, shaking a bit and hesitating, could rub against Gladio’s horns for the first time ever. He caressed them so softly it was more like ghosting them. They were impossibly strong, and absolutely beautiful. Ignis continued in a whisper; “…it’s called ‘empathy’.”

“Empathy?” Gladio asked him and let out a bitter chuckle, moving the head to a side. The gesture made Ignis take his hand away of his horn. “Empathy. Something must be wrong with you if you feel empathy for me.”  
Ignis’ eyebrows furrowed, not understanding. Gladio looked up at him and seemed to want to say something, looked down at himself, shook lightly the head and sighed as if giving up what he had to say yet again. Ignis stayed quiet, unsure of how to take Gladio’s words.  
“Since when, Ignis?” Gladio asked him after a pause, straightening the back and resting an elbow to the arm of the sofa, to rest a side of the head on his hand. “Why now? You’d seen me before like that. When I attacked you at the tower, then when you went in the West Wing…and both times the only thing you did was try to fight back or anger me more on purpose” Gladio looked up at him, and while Ignis expected anger, his eyes lacked the feeling. “What was different this time?”

It was really a question. Gladio was not being sarcastic with him. His voice was a little hoarse and reflected tiredness, but it was not aggressive or particularly rude. His eyes said otherwise; Ignis was starting to learn that Gladio’s eyes were entirely expressive; they spoke more about what he was feeling than his ears did.  
Ignis thought about it for a moment. He blinked a few times, trying to be entirely sincere, and realizing some things in subtext; ‘you’d seen me before like that, at the tower and when you went into the west wing’. Of course; that this was the first petal fall Ignis was conscious about did not mean this was the first petal ever or the first to fall in his presence.  
Gladiolus’ attack in the tower…all that rage and bestial anger…of _course_. Ignis was not sure how this changed anything or why the impact was as great, but he suddenly felt terrible for that event, and much more understanding.

The thought led him to the answer for what the beast was asking him.  
“The difference was…that now I had much more context than I had either at the tower or the West Wing” Ignis said, careful but not particularly slowly. Gladio looked up and paid attention, even though something in his gaze remained sad and weak. Ignis only kept eye contact for a moment before guilt was too much and he had to stare away, the feeling clear in his expression and calling more of Gladio’s attention. “I…used to think you a brute. A feeling-less and brainless creature that acted only out of instincts” he looked at Gladio again, but the guilt remained clear in the green of his eyes. “But then I spent three months with you. Almost four by now, from which the last weeks have been rather…gratifying. And in which I’ve gotten to know you better…as in…more than just my ‘captor’” his voice went a bit quieter. “Heard you talk about flowers, saw you worrying, read your literature recommendations…”

Gladio stayed quiet, eyes hesitating on where to look at and where to stay. The intimacy was back and he was feeling odd once more, not to say the burning of the invisible handprints on his head returned.  
“…I think that what I’m trying to say is” Ignis continued, “I started seeing further the fur and the claws” at that, Gladio shifted in his place and looked at him and nowhere else, attention full on the man. “And I found the person in you. You don’t need to be human to be a person” the mention made Gladio blink, but he did not look away. “I found the sensible you. I figured you’re not what I used to think you were…understood my first impression was incredibly poor and entirely mistaken” Ignis sighed. “…and understanding you and what you are and who you are a bit better…it’s made me empathetic towards you. And it’s what’s allowed me to manage a…healthier relationship these past weeks.”

There was silence afterwards. If Gladio did not know what to say or if he simply had nothing to say, Ignis was not sure and he put no pressure on it. The beast’s oh so terribly human eyes were looking at him looking big and gleamy like Ignis did not remember they were, and it made him feel even guiltier for a reason he could not understand. He bit down at his own lower lip as if to stop himself from talking, but he failed.  
“…I saw you suffering” he whispered, putting the head down. There was an even longer silence in between. “I didn’t understand all these months ago because I thought you an animal and paid no attention. But now that I was aware you are far more than just that, I tried looking for you and you were not there” he frowned lightly while speaking. “And the little part of you that was there…it was suffering. Holding a battle and suffering” Ignis looked away. “I guess the difference is that now I knew it was not brute instincts, but rather struggling and suffering, and it’s only a natural reaction of a decent human being to grow empathy in these cases.”

Ignis felt his heart bumping against his ribcage, with nervous beats. He let out a trembling exhale, unsure of why he was feeling as…altered. It was not exactly embarrassment. He assumed it was only how intimate this conversation felt what caused his natural reaction of nerves. He stayed quiet and looked up at the beast when he felt the silence had lingered for too long. He felt stupid when he realized he was still standing on his feet, and reached back to sit again like Gladio had done.  
“…this dynamic won’t work for us, Ignis” Gladio said at him with the same hoarse and weak voice than before. Ignis blinked at him, not understanding. “Why do we have to wait for something _very_ fucked up to happen so we stop hating each other and befriend?”

Ignis blinked at him again, at first not understanding, but soon enough getting a grasp of it; Gladio was right, this was almost a pattern. Gladio had to wait until Ignis almost died from his captivity in the tower to understand his pain and give him proper care; Ignis had waited until Gladio almost killed him for stepping in the West Wing to understand how the curse affected him; they had waited until both almost killed each other daemons almost finished the job for them to grow empathetic for each other and see further their hate and start working things out; Gladio waited until learning from Ignis’ backstory and until the man almost died to start treating him like a decent human being.  
And then Ignis had to wait for Gladio to be put in his biggest suffering to understand the depth of his soul. To really understand him. To accept he worried…to accept the bond between the two…  
It _was_ fucked up. 

The man closed the eyes and, unexpectedly, smiled slightly.  
“You’re right. This won’t work if we keep that dynamic up” Ignis agreed, opening the eyes and looking at the beast. While Gladio remained with that sad look on his face, Ignis widened his smile lightly at him. “Do you know what else I’ve noticed from this pattern? That when we grow the most empathetic, and hence, the less hateful towards each other, that’s when we understand each other and our motifs and ways of feeling or thinking” Gladio raised an eyebrow lightly at him, more in a question than a derogatory gesture. “I suggest that before attacking or despising each other, we understand each other better.”  
“And how do you suggest we do that?” Gladio asked him, with a slight hint of sarcasm. “We talk and hang together?”  
“Well, communication does tend to be the key” Ignis shrugged a bit. “Lack of communication is what leads to lack of understanding. Lack of understanding is what tends to lead to hatred and fights; that is exactly where wars come from” Gladio smiled for a moment as if thinking about a joke he could make, but he said nothing. “In the moments I get to know you better it’s when I learn how mistaken I was from my first impressions. So, if you’re willing to change the dynamic even if just to avoid unpleasant arguments and attempts of mutual murder…”

Unexpectedly, Gladio could not resist a chuckle that was almost a little laugh. Ignis smiled by seeing the result of his attempt to ease the tension. The beast stared away when he let out the little chuckle, shaking lightly the head but still smiling.  
“So now, to understand each other, we change the accidental-almost-death scenarios for…tea parties” Gladio said and, for once, Ignis could catch this was a joke and he chuckled. It made him wonder how many jokes Gladiolus had delivered in the past and that he had missed for, well, not understanding this was the way he joked. The beast smiled lightly.  
“I fancy some coffee instead, perhaps?” Ignis asked him with that smile present. Even though Gladio’s eyes remained sad, he was still smiling and looking at Ignis in silence as if expecting him to drop the joke and go back to their full drama, but he did not, so the beast stared down and widened slightly his smile.  
“Yeah, why not?” Gladio whispered, sounding painfully sad despite the smile.

Ignis stayed quiet for a few moments, watched Gladio caress his own head again and hold it for a moment like it was hurting. The man contained a sigh in his chest and stared around, not at the furniture but rather at the surroundings. It was still as wonderful as the first time he saw the library, all the walls full of books and more books, the endless-like illusion it gave. He sighed softly through the nose.  
“You know what I would like to know about you first?” Ignis asked and waited for only a moment, expecting and receiving no answer. “The library. I know it’s some sort of…personal sanctuary for you. I have never understood why” Ignis looked down from the distant walls to the beast, and found him staring. “You said you couldn’t read…and it makes me curious on then why it is such an…intimate space for you.”  
At first the silence was so long Ignis was about to add Gladio did not have to answer if he did not want to, but the beast sighed and stared up at the walls and endless books like Ignis had done.  
“It’s not that” he said lowly, softly. “It’s not about reading or not. It’s only…something. About being surrounded of books…” 

They stayed quiet, as if to take a moment to feel what the beast was talking about. Ignis looked around again, and looked back at the beast when he saw, by the corner of the eyes, when Gladiolus turned his attention to him.  
“…it makes me feel…” the beast shrugged. “…safe.”  
Ignis blinked and continued to stare at him. Gladio’s eyes stayed on him, sometimes hesitated and moved down, still sad but as beautiful as Ignis did not remember they used to be. The man stared at them and felt they could reflect the entire library and contain it at once. Ignis blinked and stared around once more, paying attention to something that was not material or visual, trying to get a grasp of that _something_. It did not take long; it was not a foreign sensation. He smiled softly and his eyes went down.  
“I believe I understand” Ignis whispered. “Thank you.”

Gladio did not question that last phrase. When Ignis looked at him again, Gladio was busy caressing his own head again. He looked…sick. Still weakened, and now also sick, which was a different sort of exhaustion and Ignis, with all the years of experience ever since his father fell sick, had a particularly good eye to see it. He watched Gladiolus in silence, worrying a little more and hoping he was mistaken, but the beast still held his head and looked rather in pain. It was watching him that Ignis remembered that awful way of pulling at his hair and burying the claws in his scalp.  
“…are you hurting, Gladio?” Ignis asked as soft as he managed, and started standing up again. “I was waiting for you to wake up so I could attend the bruises and injuries on your head, but…” as he spoke, he approached the beast and raised the hands in a clear gesture of reaching to hold his head. Unexpectedly and a bit startling for him, Gladio raised a hand and let out a tiny sound that could pass as a whimper…as if suddenly… _scared_ of being touched. Ignis stayed quiet, confused at the reaction. Gladio kept a hand to his forehead and the other up in between both of them, the head down. As he said nothing, Ignis decided to take a step back, unsure of what had gone wrong.  
“No…it’s fine” Gladio said after a while, not daring to look up at the man.

“It won’t be a bother, if that’s the problem” Ignis offered. “It’s minor bruising, it’s simple to-”  
“It’s not that, Ignis” Gladio interrupted him softly. The man stayed quiet and the beast sighed, letting go of his head. He looked at Ignis with hesitation and tried to say it, but found it to be harder than expected. He licked his lower lip as if to try again to push the words out and failed once more. He sighed and looked away again; well, Ignis wanted them to communicate and understand each other better, he would have it. It was only…not so simple, at least not with this sort of things. Still, the beast agreed that not understanding usually led to multiple troubles, so he tried to be fully sincere and simply…let it out. Not like Ignis would tell anybody else or humiliate him for that or like he could use it to his favor. It was ridiculous, but important, Gladio guessed. He sighed once more and stared somewhere else; it was always much easier to say things when not looking at the blazing green eyes that did but raise the heat of the invisible handprints on his head. “…it’s not the bruises” he paused again and looked at Ignis only for a moment, finding the man patiently waiting for him to continue. “It’s…just…ahm…”

It took him a while of whispered stuttering and hesitation and a few hand gestures and a sigh before he got anywhere.  
“It’s only…” he paused to heavily sigh again. “…nobody…had…touched me in…five years, and…”  
He hoped he would not need to say the rest, hoped Ignis would understand with just that. He had shown himself insufferably perceptive enough before, he better get a grip of what Gladiolus did not want to say aloud himself. In the lingering silence, Ignis only nodded slowly in a clear gesture that he comprehended. Still, Gladio sighed and forced himself to say more, just for the sake of ‘understanding’.  
“You know, after such a long time, it just…” he exhaled. “For some reason…it just…kind of…burns? Doesn’t make sense, but…”  
“No, I understand” Ignis interrupted him softly. They stayed quiet once more until Gladio looked at him again. Ignis seemed to hesitate. “Well…” the man sighed to calm himself. “That too can be fixed.”

Gladio took a few moments to react. He only stared at nowhere with a slight frown of confusion before turning to look again at the man. He blinked once in a silent question. All that Ignis did was to offer him a tiny but sincere smile.  
“Trust me.”  
The beast said nothing. He lowered the eyes and stared away. He still took a few more moments before he only whispered a very quiet ‘Yeah’. 

They fell back into silence once more. Ignis looked at his side on the sofa and found the cloak resting there, fixed. His eyes moved slightly up and found Prompto still standing there, looking at him with that innocence but great support of always. Ignis smiled gently at him and the candelabra returned the gesture. Ignis looked at the cloak and held it in hands once again, cutting the thread and starting to put the things of the sewing kit back in the little box. Gladio watched him in silence. Even doing such casual things like putting things in a box, Ignis looked stupidly…ethereal. He made the most vulgar or simple of things look like art. When Ignis was done, he looked up at the beast with kind eyes.  
“Is there anything you need right now, Gladio?” the man asked him and the way he sounded so casual yet soft at the same time made the beast’s heart a bit lighter, almost as if feeling like all the previous tension was gone and done.

“I think…I want to be alone…” Gladio said a bit weakly. He did not sound rude, not even a bit. His desire was sincere and a bit urgent. The man stood up and offered a hand to him. Gladio looked at it and up at Ignis, as if silently asking and saying so many things. All that Ignis did was to stay in the same place, palm up. Eventually, and hesitating, Gladio reached a hand up.  
He hesitated in the last moment, but, eventually, he laid his palm on top of Ignis’.  
The size difference was obvious. Ignis’ hand, with large fingers, looked rather small in comparison, in more ways than just the length. It felt so fragile and weak underneath the weight of his paw and claws. It felt nude, with not a single hair. And still, it felt warm. Warm in a way no fur could ever get.  
Gladio stared at the place where their hands laid one on top of the other, and felt a pinch inside. It hurt, but it was not bad, or not negative-kind-of-bad, but he did not dare say anything about it fearing it would make no sense. He swallowed and looked up at Ignis, who smiled at him as if to encourage him.

It was more a metaphorical gesture than an actual help, but Gladio used Ignis’ hand for support to stand up. It gave him the strength to achieve it without falling down, only realizing how weak his legs felt once he was using them. They trembled; he stood in place, weakened and with a terrible headache, dizzy from the movement. Ignis reassured him with words telling him to take it slow and easy, but did not touch him further the connection of his palm against Gladio’s paw. Eventually, once Gladio nodded at him as response to Ignis asking him if he was alright, the man let go of his paw and Gladio both hated and thanked it, but said nothing. 

Ignis offered him the cloak, not touching him. Gladio accepted it and, feeling a bit dumb and like this was rather unnecessary, he put it on and buttoned it in place. Ignis had to put the button some inches below the place where the clasps had been so it could close, but it worked perfectly fine, like that was the way it had always been.  
“You were right” Gladio said once he had his cloak back on. “Button is easier.”  
“I am content I could be of use” Ignis replied with a smile. Gladio returned it, weakly, but sincerely. After a few moments of staring, Ignis offered a tiny nod while speaking. “You may lean on me if you feel your strength starts to fail you.”  
“Are you walking me to my room?” Gladio asked him with the voice a little less sad, in a clear gesture of trying to lift the mood once again. “Are you making sure I don’t get lost?”  
“I am making sure you don’t faint in the middle of a staircase” Ignis said, and Gladio started raising a hesitating hand. The man did not look at it, and Gladio felt a little more encouraged by the fact that Ignis was ignoring it on purpose as if he really did not mind its presence, but still hesitated. “Besides, the way there may serve us of use for a little chat.” 

“Right; communication, you call it” Gladio said like that was a bad thing, and eventually started lowering the hand onto Ignis’ shoulder. The man seemed to hesitate only for a moment, but completely untensed when Gladio’s hand finally landed on him. His grip was very soft, but would provide some support for the beast. Both tried to pretend the physical contact was not happening, like not giving it recognition would take weight off the intimacy of it. “Let’s talk about our feelings.”  
“As pleasant as it sounds, thank you but I’d rather have another matter of conversation” Ignis said as joking as Gladio had sounded, not fearing to joke now that they understood each other’s sense of humor. “The weather, for example.”  
“Lovely” Gladio said with a slight fake impression of Ignis’ accent; the man glared but smiled and said nothing, starting to take the first few steps. Gladio did not seem to have troubles rather than slight slow pacing, and he was not putting much pressure on the hold he had on Ignis’ shoulder, so the man continued towards the main doors, watching carefully for any sign that he should stop or slow down. “You know, I’ve got nothing against your idea of ‘communicating’, but honestly I have no idea what to talk about. This is awkward.”

“The matter matters not” Ignis replied. “It can be anything. Some day that you feel like not being alone, you could talk to me more about flowers the way you know how to” the beast chuckled happily. “That would be both enjoyable and useful. And you could perhaps make another literary recommendation?”  
“I guess I can talk ‘bout that stuff” Gladio agreed, staring at the floor as they reached the main entrance; Ignis opened one of the doors and Gladio pushed the other. “You could tell me ‘bout cooking, and your recipes.”  
“I am unsure of how to feel at the fact that I am offering to open up to you and talk about literally any matter or aspect of my intimate life, and what you wish to know more about is recipes.”  
“Hey, what can I say?” Gladio said finally sounding much closer to his usual self rather than the sad and weakened creature. He spoke as both exited the library, not once looking back as if having forgotten entirely about the furniture that, mouths opened, a few smiles here and there, and entirely mute, watched them share that friendly conversation and go away side by side. “I’ve got a particular passion for food.”  
“Please, do not remind me. I have noticed firsthand. _Very_ well.”

Even though comments like that used to be cause of troubles, Prompto tilted the head to a side like a curious child and smiled when, instead of any argue or growling, Gladio laughed. He could swear he did not need to see it to feel Ignis’ smile, too.  
If there was a comeback to that or not, Prompto did not know; the doors of the library slowly went back to their place, closing and separating man and beast from the furniture and books.  
For once, the fact that they were left alone together with no furniture to keep watch on them was not worrying. Almost on the opposite, nobody moved or said anything about it, as if thinking it wrong to invade their time together.

Side by side, smiling and only one or two jokes away from laughing, Ignis slowly accompanied a weakened beast through the hallways of the Citadel headed for Gladio’s room, to leave him with that ‘some space alone’ that he needed. He made a quick list in his head to remember preparing some noodles that night and send them to him via Prompto, along the message to let the beast know that, if he required anything, he could send someone to Ignis’ room to let him know. 

Thank the Astrals, Gladiolus’ legs did not betray him in any moment, so the walk to his room, while slow paced, offered no major obstacles. The beast kept the hand on his shoulder for support all the while. Even though he could feel his claws, Ignis did not fear or complained for a single second.

The way to his room had a few laughs and a few words exchanged, but there was mostly silence, and he noticed again that the Tick Tack was still not there.  
Ignis added to his mental list to go look for Noctis, wherever he was. 

He was sure that the clock would enjoy questioning him about what he missed, and, for once, Ignis kind of wished to answer to everything, no refrains, and no more lying to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still profoundly proud of you for making it this far, and so touched you've stayed. I hope you're sincerely enjoying. Thank you, very dearly. (o´▽`o)


	22. New Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on, the story will focus on Gladio and Ignis interacting and strengthening their bond. If uninterested, you can skip until the climax of it and where the story takes a plot turn on the future chapter "Tale As Old As Time" (no date for it, but you can check in a month or two).
> 
> I got ya, mate. 
> 
> You can also check some Ravus' centered chapters. So far in plans there's only 2, one under the name "Music Boxes and Kings", but there may be changes.
> 
> \--
> 
> An apology for taking sooooo long!! Gladnis Week and Episode Ignis got in the way, and then real life! But I promised to myself to update before the year would end.
> 
> I hope you're all having a good time enjoying the winter celebrations. Happy Holidays, and thank you for staying to continue reading the story! :)

Ignis did not need to look for Noctis; the clock found _him._

When the man tried questioning him, Noctis started coming up with a way so he would not lie but would not reveal all the truth; Ignis had shown to own a very brilliant mind, which was good, except when it was bad. And by ‘when it was bad’, that meant when he started figuring out that Noctis was lying or hiding something from him. Which the clock did mean to do, not out of trying to be mean or a hypocrite, but…there were things he could not explain to Ignis. There were many things Ignis had forgotten, did not know and ignored; that was basically the reason he had been taken prisoner in the first place. Noctis and his friends had tried lying at him, but Ignis was too smart and sometimes did not buy what he was told, and tried to find ways to make them speak. A few times it had been about to work, hadn’t their secrets been as terribly huge.

Hence, Noctis could not simply explain the whole truth of his disappearance. All that he told the man when Noctis went to look for him in his room was that Nyx had gotten worried, because he knew of Gladio’s necessity to go to the library during his petal rage, he knew Noctis was there, and he knew that the clock had a small limp that could difficult his escape. Which was absolutely not a lie. Noctis only did not tell him that it was not only Nyx, but all and any Glaive or Crownsguard who _always_ looked for him whenever a petal fell, as a priority, whether he was in the library or not, gathered a small squad which usually had somebody that counted with drawers to keep him in one of them so they could leave to the room that was farthest from the library, and lock themselves up in there with Noctis until Gladio had calmed enough. 

It sounded very dramatic put like that. And, of course, Ignis would ask for an explanation for such an overprotective movement and why they did not do that with Prompto, for example. And, yet again, Noctis could not explain that to him. Could not explain that he was the current king of Lucis and that all this people served him and saw him as absolute priority. He had not more than twice witnessed Gladio’s ‘full beast’ mode, and he used to (and sometimes still did) get upset out of how they took him away of his friend. Gladio was a brother to him, and having people taking him away of his Shield when he was in the most pain felt like treason and made him feel like a coward. He used to complain in younger years that it was not like he was king of anything anymore, and that he had no more value than the others now that everyone was a piece of furniture, but he ended up accepting this protection, hating a bit to run away and be priority but having to objectively view it and agree. He could be a clock, but the fact that he was alive kept the Crystal alive, and even if weakened as he was not human, it could still provide some protection to Insomnia against the daemons. It was not as much as when he was a human and his father was alive, but it was _something_ , always better than nothing.

So, while he hated it in the personal side, he had to agree and see himself not as a brother to Gladiolus but as crudely as it was; a wild beast in rampage he needed to hide from to stay alive and, with him, keeping the kingdom as safe as it could get. A bit sad, but it was not like he chose to be born a Lucis Caelum, or like Gladio chose to become a beast. Well…in a way, he _did_ choose it, but, really, how would anyone know any of this would happen?

Ignis did not question him much after that. It seemed like the (vague for Noctis, complete for Ignis) explanation satisfied him enough. And he was in an odd mood when the clock found him, not too talkative but…he was not upset. Ignis did not look sad or angered. He looked very thoughtful, in a pretty way. Whenever the clock tried to get some conversation from him, Ignis seemed to be taken a bit off-guard like he had forgotten there was anybody else with him, sometimes he asked for Noctis to repeat what he had said, and he gave short answers, only to continue doing his stuff with that thoughtful look. The clock realized there was something; he had thought maybe Ignis could be a bit shocked from the impression of a beast-mode Gladiolus if he had happened to see him, but Ignis looked…content. Seen as it was pointless to question Ignis, Noctis decided to instead do as always and go to Prompto. He would know. 

When he found his friend, the candelabra was just coming from the beast’s room, quietly. Prompto almost threw himself at the king and did not even let Noctis ask anything before he was spilling all the information out; Ignis being stubborn, refusing to leave the library, going “all sass and rude” on Gladiolus, how it strangely turned to absolute kindness, how quickly Gladio had given in, the way he passed out, Ignis humming and caressing his hair, and the entire strange scene afterwards with the two awkwardly talking, arguing, then talking again and ending up with laughs. Noctis listened to everything in a mixture of amusement and absolute surprise, quiet for once. Well, no wonder Ignis was in such an odd mood, he understood.  
He had been spending all nights at Ignis’ room for a pretty long while by now, but he understood Ignis was possibly busy in his thoughts. The clock decided to make his way in quietly and not question him about anything, and just get on the chair he had claimed as his new bed.

Ignis had been checking the bruise on his wrist when Noctis walked into the room again. The man, luckily, was in the bathroom so the clock saw nothing. Ignis was inspecting his damaged skin with sad eyes. It had to be from the only moment Gladiolus did touch him, when Ignis had tried to touch him and the beast got a grip of his wrist. It hurt, but Ignis had not expected to earn a bruise out of that. He sighed; the sight of the purple skin was a whatever to him, but it reminded him of the way Gladiolus lost himself to the animal within. He had been so gone he caused this harm. It was small and unimportant, but he had caused it anyway. It made Ignis think about the great fight Gladiolus had to hold within to save no other than himself. It was brave to fight for and save others, but that was very easy. To fight against oneself, that was one big, huge dare. Gladiolus had not asked for it, and yet he had been doing it for five years. Alone. 

It was sort of inspiring, of course, but…it was mostly terribly sad.  
Ignis remembered about Gladiolus telling him nobody had touched him in five years, and he thought about the way only some simple caressing to the head had caused such an impact on him. It made him wonder how terribly…lonely Gladiolus must have and probably was still feeling. Ignis had said that could be fixed, and he did not doubt that, but it did not take away the fact that five years alone and fighting with himself like this was a heartbreaking thing to think about. If it touched him in the heart, he wondered how Gladiolus must have and constantly felt himself. 

That was when he heard the door and he pulled his sleeve down again. It did not hurt, not really, besides a minor discomfort. He did not want to worry anybody, or let anyone know; even if with good intentions, there was the risk somebody would tell Gladio, and reality was that knowing he had left a bruise would only do but the entire opposite to help with his confidence and fears. Ignis wished for the beast to know that Ignis knew he was good intentioned and kindhearted, but as insecure as Gladio had shown to be, even seeing a tiny scratch would make his little confidence drop. He had seen Ignis injured, but that had been all those months ago when they hated and attacked each other, so he had had no reasons to feel bad, unlike their current situation. To see a friend harmed was much more different than seeing an enemy injured, even if it was the same person.

None the clock nor the man offered much conversation, and if they did it was mostly nothing related to that night. Noctis curled in his spot of the chair, Ignis went to his bed, and they quickly drifted into sleep. 

\--

Gladio preferred avoiding Ignis the next day.

Avoiding most people, actually. He still felt a little overwhelmed by the events of the library and the falling petal, both physically and mentally. He had talked about it with his close friends, but he had mostly wanted to be alone for a while.

The first night, immediately after the events of the petal and Ignis helping him to tame the beast, he had not wanted to talk with anyone, not too much. It was not that he was behaving grumpy; on the contrary, he gave weak smiles and sad looks, short replies, or stayed quiet. Most of the time he only lied in bed doing nothing at all other than try to not think too much, and the furniture friends brought him dinner. As soon as he smelled it, he could not help a wide if slightly sad smile. He stared at the noodles and thought about it before he started eating. It felt stupidly good, that Ignis had remembered this was his favorite food. Not like he could forget, with the show Gladiolus gave that night screaming “It’s noodles!” all the time, but it was still oddly sweet and a bit funny that Ignis remembered and thought on preparing him some that night. It was implicit but clear, the desire of making Gladiolus feel better, like the fall of a petal made him catch the flu or something like that. 

Gladio could not help but wonder if Ignis had sat at the table to have his own dinner. He knew he should not have, but Gladio was starting to get used to have dinner with the man, and he lamented not being in each other’s company for that night. He imagined Ignis sitting entirely alone at the table silently slurping on his noodles. It was a bit of a sad picture, and it made the beast want to take his dish all the way downstairs and into the dining room to sit with him, even if by the time he did that Ignis would have finished and his noodles would have gone cold. He did consider it, but the burning sensation of his head and the flood of emotions requested from him the necessity to be alone and stay away from him at least for a while. He guessed that the bright side was that Ignis possibly wanted some time alone, too, and having a nice dinner without the beast’s chewing noises could be enjoyable.

Prompto did tell him that Ignis told him to tell Gladio that if the beast needed anything, he could tell Prompto or anyone and send them his way. Gladio thanked the candelabra, but he never asked anyone for Ignis. He could have befriended the man and he could feel a bit excited at the idea of being with him, but not in those moments. He needed to breathe and let the flood control itself on its own, and Ignis’ presence would only flood it more.  
From the treatment given, he realized that Iris and Prompto were trying to speak to him about what had happened, but Gladio gently while indirectly rejected them and went back to bed, to fall asleep early and, he hoped, wake up feeling much better. 

 

It turned out that the emotional flood was still too much the following day, and Gladio did not feel like doing much and even less like seeing the man. He hoped that Ignis would not mind and would understand his disappearance and not take it the wrong way. In the morning, he received his breakfast in his room again with another message from the man, in which he wished him a good day and repeated the offer of sending anyone his way in case Gladiolus needed anything. For some reason, the message felt like an implicit way of saying “I am assuming it’s most probable you still want your space, and I understand”. Which caused Gladio to feel good and again desire to go check how Ignis was doing, but he avoided it. The last that he wanted was to explode from overflooding again. He or they wanted this to work, then Gladio had to be mentally ready to face him again after the library events. The boat could wish to part, but it was best to wait until the flow of the river calmed down. 

Like that day, Ignis also prepared and asked lunch and dinner were sent his way, but he mostly avoided the beast as well, not because he too required of as much space but because he knew Gladiolus did. He preferred to wait until Gladiolus made a first approach, not because of his stubbornness but because, just like in the library, that way he was giving the beast freedom to take his pace and not be overwhelmed. That way Ignis would know he was not doing a wrong movement. He only hoped the beast would really take the first step despite his insecurity and shyness-of-sorts, and not that he too would be waiting for the man to take the first step instead.

\--

It was until the next day, the second morning after the events of the library, that Gladio dared make that first move.

It took him a conversation with Iris the previous night and almost the same one in the morning to gather confidence enough to do it.  
“But what do I tell him?” Gladio asked multiple, oh so many times. During most of the conversation he kept walking around in circles, and sometimes he chewed a bit on his claws (even though they never broke under his teeth; they were too strong), nervous. One thing was to have that unavoidable conversation after he woke up in the library, but it was different having to do a first approach on free will. Back then he had been thrown into the pool whether he liked it or not, it was different to be given the chance to step into the water when and as he pleased. 

At first the beast guessed it would be fine if he just rolled with life as if absolutely nothing had happened and just expect for Ignis to casually appear at the same hallway and just…act casual.  
Except Gladio started walking in the man’s direction like a piece of metal looking for the nearby magnet that morning.  
On a side, Gladio did feel a bit excited at the idea of having a friend, even if still a little scared of not knowing how to act or what to think, and on another side Gladio felt it was wrong to just start living as if nothing had happened, because it had, and it had been wonderful. In some way, he felt in debt with Ignis. 

Never before had Gladio been able to rein the beast in as fast and as relatively easily. It tended to last hours in the same state, and even worse if something maddened him; it could be a fly roaming around his ear, accidentally dropping something nearby him, being too noisy, staring too much, almost anything. Iris was usually in charge of seeing to him when he was in that state; usually, standing somewhere he could not reach her but without being too obvious about it, Iris would place herself somewhere relatively safe, and would try to talk Gladio out of and through it. It helped. Oh, it helped so wonderfully. 

Through the hours, Iris and her bond with Gladio helped him to not lose himself entirely and to remember who was stronger. He was sure Noctis’ voice and presence could get the same; the kid was like his little brother, had always been. But nobody could risk losing the king, Gladio himself both as a Shield and as a friend. It was not that he had no troubles in putting Iris’ life to risk instead, but…she was an Amicitia, and stubbornness ran in her genes. It had not always happened, that Iris stayed with him to help him through it; at some point of the third year she got tired of abandoning Gladio and stayed behind, and now nobody could convince her to not do it, so they had all simply gotten used to it. 

To Gladio, the fight with the beast was like a fight underwater in the dark; her voice was like a lighthouse. If she could not drag him out of the water, she helped him to not forget which direction the surface was at, and he could swim towards it and try to stay as close to it as possible until coming out of the water on his own. Iris stared at him from the surface and helped him find his way there.  
Ignis had jumped into the water to drag him out and nag him about getting soaked.  
And not that Iris could not. It was…different. She was a soft sweetness that made Gladio not give up, find the strength enough to not lose the fight. Ignis was a stubborn nagging voice that almost _forced_ him to win, not only not to lose. Iris put the hands into the water for Gladio to reach when he was ready; Ignis dived in and forced Gladio to take his hand and pulled him out himself. None was better than the other, simply different methods. 

A good difference could be, perhaps, that Iris tried to stay in a prudent distance all the time; Ignis, on the contrary, only kept getting closer the more that everybody told him to stay away. It maddened the beast much more in a much shorter lapse, the opposite to Iris; a moderate anger during a long lapse.  
Whether it had been good or bad, Ignis had risked his wellbeing and even his life to help him. If it had been stupid, good, bad, whatever it had been, the intention behind had been absolutely altruist and Gladio had to show himself grateful for it. What he did after waking up immediately after the library events was to go mad at Ignis and argue with him. He was pretty positive that was not a way to show to be in debt with someone. The man had offered they stopped hating each other and talked like friends, the last he could do was try and be a bit nicer than he had tried so far. 

 

That morning, Gladio rushed a bit too much getting dressed and had a fleeting ‘but what do I tell him’ conversation with Iris again before he exited his room and started looking around. As much of an early bird as him, Ignis demonstrated signs to have already woken up when breakfast arrived to his room during his panicked last minute conversation with Iris. The beast felt a bit disappointed when he saw the dish; he had hoped maybe he could have breakfast with Ignis and try to start their new…relationship that way. Ignis was not only already awake, too, he had also already prepared breakfast and was probably midways through his. Breakfast together, discarded. So Gladio had to look for another excuse to approach the man. 

The only idea that crossed his mind was that Ignis would probably wash his dish, so he headed to the kitchen. He hesitated when he heard no sounds, and he was not mistaken; when he walked in, only the furniture that lived there either still slept or quietly paced around. Talcott was there; when Gladio asked him, the child said that he could probably find “Mister Ignis” at the little orchard. At first Gladio had no idea what Talcott was talking about, but soon remembered, not helping a little laugh when all the memories came back to him. 

Gladio had gotten upset at him because Ignis had been behaving like jerk about the ingredients and the kitchen, and had told him the truth; that the ingredients were rather poor, that Gladio used to daily go outside to look for things to eat and that could be cooked, and that since Ignis was in the castle the beast was working now twice the hard and long he used to when he was alone so that his ‘sorry, pitiful ass would not die of hunger’, and had told him he could ‘be grateful he had the luxury of salt’. After that, Ignis softened and, even if stubborn and proud, had admitted to be wrong and tried apologizing with actions, and started the little orchard; his explanation had been that through the orchard they could have a small but relatively rich variety of different ingredients and vegetables so that he could save some work to Gladio and his daily search in the wild.

The memories made him smile out of many things; he realized that all that mess and all those arguments would have never happened had they simply been honest and had told each other their stuff from the beginning. ‘Communication’, as Ignis had suggested. It sounded stupid and cheesy, but Gladio could use that argument of all those months ago as a very wonderful example. Had he told Ignis about the truth behind the ingredients and how they made it to his hands, Ignis would have known, and would have never gotten all jerky and rude with him, no argument happened, and things could have worked out fine. 

Gladio could not help a little laugh and shook the head. He returned to his present for a moment to thank Talcott and he exited the kitchen, heading to the living room area that had witnessed so many of those stupid arguments between him and the man. It was unbelievable. He _had_ been a jerk, too. The memories made him laugh, nonetheless. He also remembered when Ignis insisted on standing at windowsills and once said something about how he knew his place was inside, crying in a corner while waiting for Prince Charming to come save him. Gladio made an awful joke by replying ‘Pretty passive, are we?’, which he had said with the purpose of maddening and embarrassing the man. It had worked. The beast laughed. Oh gods. How childish, how stupid they had been.  
And how long it had been…

The beast entered the living room area and, as he had been in his memories, he could compare the Now to the past. He had gotten used to notice, but now that he compared the Back Then to the Right Now the living room area looked so different. Ignis had taken his time to clean this, like he had done to other rooms of the Citadel. Gladio had not noticed how dirty and messy it had been until now that it was shiny clean; the tiles of the floor and walls were so shiny and clean they could almost work as mirrors. The decoration among the black did look golden now, and not rusty and stained. Even the chandelier looked reluctant. Gladio guessed somebody had to have helped him to clean that, it was too high for even Ignis to reach on his own. The shelves were clean and the things were put in an almost symmetrical order. It would have been a bit creepy how perfect Ignis had arranged everything did it not look as precious.  
The beast spent some moments slowly walking into the room and staring around. The windows were open, too. He remembered that during the first months he kept them all closed and locked so Ignis would not escape. How…abandoned everything had looked. Something as simple as opened windows gave such a different air to one room. The Citadel had such precious rooms, colors and architecture, he had not seen how neglected the poor building was. Ignis’ presence was doing such a wonderful job giving it its beauty back. Fixing it. 

He paced around for a short while before reaching the window that Ignis had so often taken for his legal hole of ‘I’m not outside’. As soon as he looked at the outside, the beast smiled and felt something funny inside that he tagged as nervousness. He rested the hands on the windowsill and watched; there was the man, at the little orchard. He was in company of a shovel or two, though he mostly looked around on his own. The beast felt his palms tickle and by reflex he scratched his head, maybe at some unconscious memory of the way his scalp had felt on fire and still itched the previous day. Gladio smiled while looking at the man and grew nervous. He looked down at himself as if making sure he had nothing ridiculous on like an accidental stain on his shirt or something even though he had just gotten dressed some minutes ago, fidgeted a bit with his fingers, stood still a few moments and took in a deep breath to calm himself. 

The beast felt his own face burning a little and he sighed to control his heart again. It was not like he would do anything else than say hello, it was just…a friendly and very casual approach. Nothing intimate or important. Except it _was_ important, but not that kind of important-important. He sighed a last time and then hopped past the windowsill and to the outside. He remembered to have pushed Ignis off this window once. He laughed lowly and paused his steps to see if Ignis had heard, but the man continued doing his stuff. Gladio continued, trying to stay calm and act as casual as possible.  
By the time he reached the man, Ignis was down on his ankles reviewing the vegetables that had successfully grown. Gladio had been so focused in just Ignis that he had not even taken a moment to notice the little orchard was full to the top of shrubs and vegetables. 

The beast stepped with caution when he entered the area and slowed down, staring around. There was a row of Leiden Potatoes, one of Lucian tomatoes, a couple lettuces, and a few other shrubs Gladio did not get a close look of. He was careful not to step on some beetroots and continued looking around, already standing at only some feet from the man.  
“Hey” he greeted casually and without thinking, helped by really being distracted with the orchard. Ignis looked back from above his shoulder and stood up at the time he turned around.  
“Good morning, Gladio” Ignis said with a little but proud smile while holding a lettuce in hands. Gladio felt stupid that he let out such a casual and stupid ‘Hey’ and Ignis had been properly formal. Before he could overthink, the man spoke. “Are you doing better now?”  
“A-ah…uhm…so it seems” Gladio replied, taken a bit off-guard and feeling his face burn. Nervous, he scratched his neck and lowered the gaze. “Sorry I left you alone for dinner- not like- I mean, sorry I disappeared for so long…”

“It’s alright” Ignis replied with a tiny hint of a smile on his face. He too seemed rather nervous on his own way, and Gladio hoped it was normal. “I am happy to know you’re better.”

Gladio offered no reply. Ignis was only giving him that nervous smile, and after a few seconds in silence, the man seemed to react as if though he had forgotten something, a bit dumbly let go of the lettuce with one hand, and reached to touch Gladio on the forearm.  
It was a dumb movement and the hold Ignis had on his arm was as dumb, and it had been forced and overthought. Gladio noticed all that. But the mere action of Ignis reaching to touch him puzzled him more than the awkward and unnatural way in which he did it, so the only reaction he could offer was to look down at the place where Ignis was touching him, and up at the man.  
Ignis offered him a nervous and forced smile; his cheeks were painted in a soft shade of red that Gladio found both alarming and stupidly cute, but the embarrassment that spread from Ignis was too much for him to focus on the cuteness.

The man let go of him as awkwardly and brought the hand closer to his own chest, where the fingers danced nervously, and it stayed up there like he had no idea where to put the hand, only to end up putting it down to hold the lettuce again. Both stood in front of each other, awkward and quiet in an uncomfortable silence. Gladio was still puzzled and wanted to ask the man what that had been, but the air was awkward enough for him to think it better to just change subject as soon as possible. But what could he tell him? All of his conversation with Iris regarding that question vanished from his head and he simply spoke about the first thing he thought about.  
“S-so, hey! I uhm, I see the sowing succeeded.”  
“Ah, yes, quite, indeed!” Ignis replied quickly almost interrupting him, as if way too grateful that he had finally changed subject, and looked around the little orchard. “Yes, uhm, there’s…a small variety” he turned to look at the beast again and offered a smile. “I hope it may serve us some help, regarding the cooking issues…”  
“Ah, no, don’t worry about that” Gladio felt his face burn not on fire but lava, and he lowered the head, nervously scratching his nape. “I don’t mean- I mean, of course it’ll help.”

“I’m glad that everything bloomed right in time” Ignis said and looked at the tiny orchard again. “It took months for the seeds to grow into shrubs and to give the first bloom, but after it, each shrub should be offering their respective flower at least three times a week” Ignis continued explaining and he reached down for a little basket that Gladio had not noticed, in which the man had already put some vegetables, and saw him drop the lettuce there. “We had a precise timing; mid-summer, the rainy and sunny season, helpful for the sowing.”  
“Y-yeah…” Gladio felt a bit nervous hearing Ignis use the pronoun ‘We’. He thought about commenting on how if Ignis had arrived to the castle some months later, the sowing would have been spoiled by the chilly weather of Fall, but he found it inappropriate and tried to think of something else. “So, uhm…” he scratched his neck again and bought time by clearing his throat. “So good it worked. You shut me up damn right.”  
“Well, you never explicitly said you didn’t trust this’d work” Ignis reminded him with what Gladio thought could be a playful smile.  
“Yeah, well, but I did laugh at you” the beast admitted and it almost sounded like an apology. 

Ignis blinked and his smile faded. He was not sure about it, but it did not sound like the only thing Gladio was talking about was the little orchard. The awkward silence returned, and both looked other ways, a little shy. Rubbing on subjects of intimacy was…uncomfortable. Both had been trying to be as casual as possible, so going out of casual made them a bit nervous. Hence, they went straight into changing the conversation again.  
“So, uh…want me to help you gather some stuff?” the beast offered, quietly.  
“Oh! Yes, of course, that would be helpful” Ignis again reacted as if thankful for getting rid of the awkward air, pushed his glasses onto his nose, and stared around. “I have a basket that a kind broom brought to me, so…”  
“Gotcha” Gladio nodded and started moving around the little orchard, making sure to watch carefully where he was stepping not to ruin anything.

They started gathering some vegetables in silence, while Gladio calmed himself down and kept reassuring himself in his head that it all had gone alright, that Ignis was not upset at him, that this was an ally- no…that this was a friend. A real friend. Somebody that did not feel repulsion for him. Or did he? Did Ignis find him disgusting? Because he could be his friend but that did not mean-  
Gladio was thinking too much. He took in a deep breath to calm himself again, and continued with the task. At some point, he put the ingredients he gathered in the basket at the same time Ignis had done it, both down on their ankles. The beast looked up at him, but the man was looking at the things in the basket. Gladio looked at them again, and he connected things in his brain.  
“See, I think I know that face” the beast called at the time his ears flipped up, as if fully attentive. “You’re thinking what you’re going to cook with this, right?”

“Oh?” Ignis blinked at him with sincerely surprised eyes. It took him a small pause of surprise before smiling. “Why, yes. I was thinking precisely about that. It seems like you’re getting to know me real well.”  
“It’s because it’s about your cooking” Gladio’s ears moved a bit again, always up, and the tip of his tail started wriggling. He forced it to stop, but could not help the smile, or the excitement he was trying to contain. “Can’t miss the Recipe Face. What are you going to cook? Will it be yours? Will you make something from a book? Will you serve it tonight?”  
“Recipe Face” Ignis replied with some sort of contained chuckle, that he hid by lowering the head and hiding his smile behind a hand. Gladio’s tail started moving again; a laughing Ignis was a rare sight. It had been a while since he last saw that, and it excited him. But, once more, he forced his tail to stop before Ignis would notice. The man cleared his throat and looked at him again. “I’m not sure what I will prepare. I was trying to remember a recipe I read from the Oric books you lent me; I think there was one that included all this…”

Gladio, for the third time, mentally fought with his tail for it to stop it. He was always ecstatic about Ignis’ cooking, but now that he had no reasons to lie or refrain about it, his body seemed to get three times the excited about it.  
“Aw, man, can’t wait to try it!” Gladio cheered and put a hand to his stomach, smiling and raising the chin. “Oh, boy, I’m hungry now.”  
“You just had breakfast, Gladiolus.”  
“Yeah, but your cooking is too good, I’d eat it all day” the beast admitted without thinking, letting himself go with the flow they managed to create. “So it’s your fault.”  
“I’ll take that as compliment” the man smiled a little. “But I will disappoint you and not cook until later tonight. Taking the troubles for the little orchard to bloom was, precisely, due to the problem of lack of ingredients, so I don’t believe it wise to start cooking every two hours.”  
“Yeah, I know” Gladio said with a little groan as he stood up when he saw Ignis do it, stretching the arms above his head for a moment. After putting them down again with a little sigh, he looked at the man once more. “Just curiosity, do you already know what you’ll make with this?”

“Impatient, are we?” Ignis asked him and started walking. Gladio stopped to offer to carry the basket, which Ignis agreed to. His first reaction was to watch the beast’s hands to make sure they didn’t touch the ingredients; his second reaction, to mentally nag himself for that, reminding himself that Gladiolus could be covered in fur but he was no pulpy dog to judge like this. “No, I’m still not sure. But you could accompany me while I prepare dinner. If…if you please, that is.”  
Gladio turned to look at him with surprised eyes. His face, once more, burnt and he was grateful that it couldn’t be seen under all that hair. Ignis was not looking his way and it almost felt like he was doing that on purpose. The beast reacted when he almost stumbled upon a branch in the way, and he remembered they were walking back to the castle.  
“Ah…of…of course” the beast replied shyly, and kept the eyes on the road. “If you…don’t mind…”  
“Not at all” Ignis replied as quietly, and fidgeted a bit more with his glasses.

They continued in silence. Some furniture looked at them as they walked together, curious about the strange situation that was just watching them being…friends. Even if it had happened step by step and progressively, it was still rare to watch them like that after such a rough beginning attempting to murder each other and jumping off windows.  
Gladio walked in silence, holding the basket and thinking too much again. He kept coming and going between reassuring himself that he did not have to be this nervous from a simple friendly interaction and wondering what Ignis thought about him.

He thought about a one thing all the quiet while from the orchard to the interior of the castle, and his heart sped up the more he insisted to himself to just ‘say it now’, until he forced it out before he would shy away.  
“Or…maybe…you can think about some recipe for lunch?” Gladio suggested, hoping that Ignis would catch it and that he would not have to explain aloud. He was not looking at the man as both continued walking, apparently headed for the kitchen, but he saw by the corner of his sight range that Ignis had turned to look at him, most surely with that confused and surprise look of his stupidly handsome face.  
“Do you…want me to prepare lunch for you, too?” Ignis asked carefully and lowly, not sure he was catching it.  
Gladio sighed; Ignis was not catching it.  
“I mean, not if you don’t want to” the beast continued, head down and eyes on the floor. “I was…suggesting that you prepare lunch for…yourself, you know? If you…want. That’s…that’s fine…”

Ignis gave that curious blink and a slight tilt of the head. He continued looking at the beast as they calmly walked, trying to examine him, the way he looked nervous like a little kid. It almost did not fit, such an innocent and shy expression on a beast this visually frightening. But, then again, he could not imagine Gladiolus being any other way.  
“Oh” was all that Ignis thought about saying for a while, focusing on the road again. “So…it’s fine that I have three meals from now on, am I reading this right?” he asked and looked again at the beast. “Or do you mean only today?”  
“No, no, I mean…anytime you want” Gladio said and tried making eye contact, but broke it almost immediately, and hugged the basket a bit tighter. “I’ve…you’ve…the orchard. I think it’s…going to help enough and…I don’t see troubles on you having your three meals from now on, whenever you wish” the beast let go of the basket with a hand and cleared his throat. “I mean…it’s probably not healthy sustaining yourself on only two meals…” 

Ignis stayed quiet and stood by the doorframe of the kitchen while the beast entered and put the basket on a counter. The man was giving him again the widened eyes of confusion and surprise.  
That, too, sounded like another apology for things that none recalled aloud. Ignis was not sure if he was catching it right, but it felt like Gladiolus was trying to make up for the treatment he had been giving him before. It felt like he was trying to properly switch from ‘Host’ to ‘Friend’ in everything. The beast stayed quiet but looked at him when the silence had lingered too much, and Ignis tried to say something. He did not know if Gladio was serious and the little orchard was enough so he could have his three meals, or if this was Gladio trying to be kind. Even though he appreciated it, Ignis did not want for it to be the second case; it would mean Gladio would have to go through more troubles on gathering ingredients in the wild, and Ignis wanted anything but to give him more troubles. 

Still, he could not question him. He tried, found it inappropriate, stared around shyly, and then calmed himself, making eye contact again but not helping the shyness, and nodded once. Gladio’s ears twitched lightly, and Ignis smiled at him.  
“Thank you, Gladio” Ignis said. “I’ll make sure to prepare something for the both of us, then. Anything in particular that you’re craving for?”  
Gladio’s ears went up again and his eyes widened a bit; this could or not mean that Ignis…maybe he was accepting to not just cook lunch for him, but also to sitting down with him for it. And it was not that Ignis had never sat with him at the table to eat, but that had always been dinner and only that. Did this mean he was trading dinner for lunch, or…or was he accepting to have both dinner _and_ lunch with Gladio? 

Thinking too much about this, all that Gladio could do was offer some stuttering and his mouth let out a clumsy ‘Ah, not really’. Ignis nodded and started talking something about recipes and the books they had found the other day, but Gladio was a bit busy overthinking about the situation. Some moments later, Ignis offered to take the ingredients to the pantries, at which Gladiolus offered himself, but the man insisted and took the big basket in arms with a little huff, and left, claiming Talcott had already taken him to the pantries multiple times and that he would not get lost. Gladio’s first reflex was to bid him goodbye with a ‘See you at lunch?’ as a way to find out whether he had understood Ignis’ words correctly or not, but he feared that it would sound like an invitation Ignis would felt forced to accept, so he changed it.

“So, see you later?” Gladio asked in a way that it could as much as it could not be a question at all.  
“Until later, Gladio” the man, still standing in front of him, offered one of his half-a-nods and gave a step as if to exit, but stopped right there with a little ‘Oh’ and took his step back like he had forgotten something, and held the basket with only one arm to free the other.  
Just like back at the little orchard, Ignis moved the hand up and touched him again in a very awkward way. He seemed to think too much about where and how he touched. It looked like he had aimed for the forearm like back at the gardens, but switched to reach up on the arm. He laid his hand there in a friendly grip, but the movement and the timing were completely unnatural and obviously forced.  
“Yes” Ignis said looking at the soft grip he had on Gladio’s thick arm, and looking more lost than actually aware of what he was doing. “Until later, Gladio.”

The beast did not reply at first; he blinked, confused, and stuttered another goodbye again, too puzzled and not understanding Ignis’ strange gesture. What the heck was Ignis trying to do with these random and awkward unnatural touches? Gladio thought about asking him, but the man removed the hand again, looking nervous, and put it back on the basket. He offered a last forced smile at the beast and started leaving for sure this time. Gladio, mute from the confusion, turned around when Ignis walked past him to watch him leave.  
Well, that was new. And strange; Gladio had no idea what Ignis was trying to achieve with this, whatever it was. 

The beast stood there some moments, head tilted to a side like a curious bird, watching the man’s figure grow smaller and disappearing through the correct hallway. Gladio looked down at his arm as if to make sure Ignis’ hands had not left burnt prints on the sleeves. He knew it was only metaphorical, but he could not help to think Ignis was made of fire, so looking at his sleeve would make no harm. Who knew, maybe Ignis was trying to set him on fire just for fun. That was, at least, a simple explanation to such awkward and forced touches…

“So, how did it go, Gladdy?”

The beast turned his attention from his sleeve to one of the counters of the kitchen. His sister stood on one, looking at him happily.  
“Uhm…fine, I guess” Gladio said quietly and shrugged a shoulder.  
“See, there was nothing to be scared about” Iris said and the beast got closer and leaned down to be near her height. “I told you to just let things flow and be casual.”  
“Yeah…I guess” Gladio shrugged again. “It was a bit awkward at times, though. Like when- have you seen he’s…like…touching me weirdly? Like, it’s like…he feels he has to and…?”  
“Yeah, I saw” Iris said with a little laugh. “I think he wants to be friendly, but doesn’t know how.”

By any reply, Gladio shrugged and shook the head as if saying ‘I have no idea’. The siblings stayed quiet for a while, the beast still bent to stay close to his sister’s height, and looked somewhere else, lost in thoughts. She let him, quiet, and gave him time until he took in a breath and let it out quietly through the nose.  
“You know, forced or not” Gladio started telling her, quietly, and not looking her way, rather at his arm again, “it feels…kind of nice. Back at the library, he did that to calm the beast, but right now he doesn’t have to, and that he does it, awkward or not…”

Gladio stayed quiet a bit too long, and Iris started assuming her brother would not continue. She tried to understand what he had meant to say, and watched him stare at nowhere on the counter for a while.  
However, a few moments later, the beast sighed softly again and looked at her, with eyes that resembled those of a child; innocent, and full of hope. 

“…Iris, maybe he _really_ doesn’t find me too disgusting.”

\--

That day, when Gladio headed to the dining room, nervous and trying to keep all his expectations down and repeating to himself that ‘things will be fine if he doesn’t show up or if he doesn’t stay to eat with me, it’ll be fine, it has no reasons to bother me’, he stopped when he was nearby the table and had a good look of the kitchen at the end of the room. The doors were open.  
Ignis was there, sleeves rolled up, looking over his shoulder at him with no particular expression, already cooking. 

The beast froze when he saw him and his ears flapped up in surprise. They kept eye contact for a moment, before Ignis, without a word, broke it to focus again on his cooking like nothing had happened at all. Gladio, on his side, stood there paralyzed and a little awkward, not knowing how to make a new approach this time. It made him nervous, not knowing if this had been coincidence, or if Ignis was…fully aware of Gladio’s usual hour of lunch. At first, the thought was nice, because it felt like Ignis paid attention to his schedules because he cared, but then Gladio realized that if Ignis knew his schedules it was not because he cared, but because, before they had befriended, Ignis was too wary of him and had made his mental notes to know how and when and where Gladio moved, hence knowing how to avoid him.  
Maybe that explained why the man had never been anywhere nearby him all those months even by coincidence…

Shaking the head to get rid of the negative thoughts, Gladio tried to not make a big deal out of it and felt more comfortable believing it had been a coincidence even when he knew it was not true. He hesitated for a moment what was correct, if going over to the man or if sitting and wait for him. The latter option made him feel he’d look cocky, so he quietly approached the kitchen and tried to stand at a prudent distance. He could not help but glance first at the pots on the stove. Like every time it was about anything regarding the man’s cooking, Gladio’s tail started swinging and he had to mentally and secretly fight against it.  
“I see you’ve already chosen what to prepare” Gladio said as a way to start a casual conversation as casually he could. 

The man did not glance his way, but he nodded.  
“I hope it will be of your liking” Ignis told him. “It’s the first time that I prepare this, and there was a little stain on the page that did not let me read a step…” he said and turned to look at an open book he had nearby. “But I think I managed it correctly. I expect.”  
Gladio’s tail started swinging faster despite his effort to keep it still.  
“It smells like glory” Gladio murmured and put the hands behind himself just to do something with them that wasn’t grabbing the pot and pouring it down his throat already. Ignis’ cooking was a mistake, it woke in him his animal instincts, but that could just mean Ignis was great and what he did. “Is it ready yet?”  
“Don’t be impatient on me, Gladiolus” Ignis reprimanded him and while he had been serious, it did not sound rude or cold like what the beast had grown used to. “I shall serve when it’s ready.”

“Do you need any help?” Gladio asked more out of a courtesy reflex than thinking. Ignis had time to turn and look at him but not enough to reply anything when the beast was already putting a hand to his face and closing the eyes. “No. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to ask that, I’d just…cause more troubles and drop hair everywhere, so…”  
“You could go sit and just wait” Ignis told him softly and turned his attention to the stove again, using a spoon to mix the content of a pot. “It won’t take long.”

Well, that was one of the kindest ways to tell him ‘Yes, you will be troubles, so please leave the kitchen’. It reminded Gladio of how much Ignis enjoyed of his personal space when he was cooking, and the beast mentally reprimanded himself for having invaded him. He felt too shy to apologize, so he did not, and quietly went to the table to his usual spot to wait.  
Things were going…smooth with Ignis. Still, he felt bad. He felt even more disgusting than in a beginning. It was like now that Ignis was open to look at him with a friendly eye, now that he had gotten over his hatred, he could look at Gladio with a much clearer mind and eye, and Gladio was…well. Hideous. He felt good about interacting with Ignis in such a new and friendly way, but the little things always dropped his confidence back down to the underground, whenever he remembered about how stupidly perfect the man was in all senses, and how much of a brute and hideous animal he was. 

He tried to stay calm and remember things were alright and that Ignis was not the sort of creature to judge him like that, that he had a very kind heart and that he did not find Gladio to be disgusting, but Gladio did not fully convince himself in the short while of quiet he had. 

Ignis did not take long to arrive with the dishes, one for Gladio and one for himself.  
The human sat at his usual two chairs of distance. But he sat, and that was enough to clear Gladio’s cloudy mind and make him smile and feel his very wonderful appetite coming back. 

\--

Lunch had been like their usual dinner together; mostly quiet, or Ignis freaking out whenever Gladio did something ‘too inappropriate’ and started nagging him until the beast stopped and tried again. They attempted to earn some conversation, but both behaved quiet and rather shy; they had not had dinner in a few days, so now that they sat together again for the first time since that unusually intimate moment at the library, it made them feel back in that intimacy even when the situations were nothing alike, and conversation didn’t bloom easily. But it was a comfortable lunch, and that was more than Gladio could have asked for. 

After that, they parted ways again to do as both pleased individually. Gladio went out to search for food and ingredients like usual, but got easily distracted just running or pacing around, too busy in thoughts and trying to clear the mind. He knew that the fact that Ignis had called for peace between them and for friendship did not mean that they had to be together twenty-four hours a day, but each time he had time for himself, the beast could not help but wonder what and when their next interaction would be. He was excited about it, on a side, but on the other side it felt like an obligation. But not one that felt bad. He knew it was selfish, but the biggest reason he thought so much about his next interactions with Ignis was because he worried a lot, way too much on wanting Ignis to think good and positive about him, and try to do things to show himself worthy of that esteem. He had no reasons to seek that, but…he wanted Ignis’ real approval. 

He knew it was only his loneliness and desperation to feel accepted in the state he was in, as a hideous beast, and that it was selfish, but he could not help it. 

After running around as if trying to escape from the anxiety and gathering some food, after returning and working-out a little (usually what released him from physical stress, hence a great help to keep the beast side of him asleep), and after pacing around on his own, he decided to go to the library. One side of him wanted to go just for the sake of the books themselves, and the other side wished almost with desperation that Ignis would casually happen to be there.  
So, while excited and getting so nervous it tickled everywhere on his body, it did not properly surprise him when he opened the doors, looked around, and spotted the man in the room.

Ignis was walking around on the third floor. The way the library was designed so each floor was rather a set of four hallways that rounded the walls rather than a proper floor let anyone have a view of all of them from the low level, so Gladio spotted the man almost immediately just by hearing the noises he was making and looking up to find him. Ignis was carrying with a pair of books and was heading downstairs, and stopped when he was at the second floor to look in Gladio’s direction.  
The beast’s ears flapped up and he raised a hand as a ‘Hello’ gesture; hands busy, Ignis nodded as response from the distance, and retook his way downstairs. 

Gladio approached the staircase shyly and slowly, nervous like always, and soon enough Ignis appeared to sight. Gladio’s first reflex was to offer he carried the books for him, and Ignis gratefully accepted and handed him the pair of thick books.  
“I happened to have just returned a pair” the man told him while watching the beast reach for a table. “I’ve never had this much time to read. Read what I want, that is.”  
“Huh” Gladio placed the books on the table and looked at the cover of the one on top; an astronomy book. He fought with all his might to stop his tail from swinging before it even started and tried to control his ears from moving up in both recognition and excitement. Damn, he loved astronomy books, even the ones he could not understand very well, but he could not just say that…not when Ignis thought he did not know how to read. “So, I’m guessing you’re enjoying of the library?”  
“Like you don’t have an idea” Ignis replied with a tiny smile and approached him nearby the table. 

The beast offered him a seat, and Ignis, once more, accepted him. Gladio had been accepted two gestures in a row and it felt like a success. If it wasn’t because he hated the comparison, he could have compared how he felt to that of a proud puppy getting approval from its master. He reminded to himself that _he_ was the host, _he_ was bigger and much stronger, and _he_ was possibly older, so _he_ was on absolute control between the two. It felt like a lie, but one that made him smile; who could believe that this man with the grace of a doll and the looks of an ancient statue could be so fierce? He could be much smaller and not as strong as Gladio, but damn, had Ignis offered a good fight that showed to be to his levels, and speaking in ways that went further just physical encounters.

“I’ve seen you come and go with bunches of books” Gladio said and he pulled the other chair so he could sit at the man’s side, smiling at him. “Didn’t know you had such a passion for books…”  
“There are gems in this library, I cannot just ignore them” Ignis said and took one of the books, not helping the little gesture of holding it close and smiling like he was a hopelessly in love romantic holding his beloved’s love letter. “This may be one of my new absolute favorites. I’ve already read it before, but I couldn’t resist coming back for it again. It’s wonderful.”

Gladio saw him pull the book away and put it again on the table and dragging it closer to the beast, as if to let him see. Gladio looked at it, one of his ears flapped, and he looked at Ignis. The man broke eye contact when the beast turned, but he looked irremediably excited, the kind of expression that kept it clear he was dying to burst out into a two-hours-long rant about the book, but having reined himself in as soon as he began. Gladio looked again at the book and looked at the cover, secretly read the title even though he already knew it, and tried to think of what to say. He wanted to talk with Ignis about literature, he _died_ to do that…but he had messed up weeks ago, and had said he could not read. He had no way to take his words back without feeling awful or fearing that Ignis would get upset at him for lying, so Gladio had to swallow his want to speak literature with him, but did not want to stay quiet. He wanted Ignis. He wanted his company and his approval and he wanted to see him smile and he wanted Ignis to look and be happy and comfortable. So he could not just stay quiet.

Not to say that, on the selfish side, he really and senselessly _loved_ Ignis’ voice. He wanted him to continue talking, go on that two-hours-long rant, and not stop until the man grew tired of it. Gladio adored his voice, and he wanted to listen more of it.  
Nervous about the request, but pushed too much by the pretty idea of wanting Ignis to continue talking to him, the beast swallowed and tried to arm himself with courage to ask. 

“…s-so…” Gladio started, trying to figure a way to make it work without having to ask something directly, and feeling his face burning. “…what is…it about?”  
“Well…” Ignis said after a small pause. He looked at Gladio and blinked once as if suddenly not knowing what to say. The beast tried to act casual and put an elbow to the table, to rest the side of his head on his hand, and tried to keep eye contact without shying away. The man blinked at him again and it was him who broke eye contact, and focused on the book on the table. “It’s…hm…let me think how to word this…” Ignis took longer and reached for the book again, sliding it on the table so it was in front of him again. Gladio thought the man would end up rejecting him, but stayed quiet just in case. “Well. It may be a little abstract to describe. It’s not a novel, so it doesn’t necessarily have a plot, and I’m not sure I could summarize everything. It’s…scientific made literature. I’m unsure of how to explain it.”

“Uh…” was all that Gladio offered as a reply for a moment. He looked at the book, subtly at Ignis, and back at the book, fingers toying shyly on his thigh while he tried to find a way for conversation not to end. He was enjoying of this, of how Ignis did not…reject him. He wanted to continue this friendly development, he wanted it to really be friends and not just some sort of treaty or attempt-of-befriending. And his voice, Gladio’s desire for Ignis to continue using his voice…

More specifically, what Gladio desired the most was for that voice to sing again. He wanted to hear Ignis singing again, even if only humming. He wanted to hear Ignis’ voice coloring melodies and dancing in musical notes. But…how could he ask that from Ignis? It was too…intimate. It would be inappropriate from him to request such a thing, and he did not want Ignis to think he was threatening him into it. He wanted Ignis to sing like he did back when the petal fell; out of free will, and for him, and to him. But he could not request that.

Though talking was not too far from singing; it was his voice. It could be less notes with less musical intention, but talking was some form of singing, too.  
He decided to let his mouth speak before his brain finished processing the idea that struck him.

“Say, why don’t you read it aloud?” Gladio requested and he felt a mental explosion, like his brain starting to scream and hit him multiple times. But he decided to ignore it, looked at Ignis, and quietly continued. “Maybe then I can understand it?”

Ignis turned his attention from the book to the beast once more and stayed entirely quiet. This only made Gladio’s brain start screaming louder and hit him harder, calling him awful names, but the beast stayed still like nothing was happening, like his heart was not deciding whether to die or not, and his palms tickled from the nervousness. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, what were you thinking!? Of course he’s going to say no! That’d be awkward, that he reads for you. Well, he doesn’t know I can read, so maybe it won’t- no, even then it’d be as awkward, I can’t believe I just-!_  
“Do you…want me to read this aloud…” Ignis started asked him in almost a murmur, attention full on the beast. “…for you?” 

_Can you please not look at me with those beautiful eyes looking like that!?_

“E-eh, no” Gladio moved his head away of his hand. “No, I mean- yes” he shook the head to the sides. “No, I mean- it’s stupid, just leave it-”  
“No, I don’t mean…” Ignis started saying, looked away and pushed his glasses up his nose. He paused and cleared his throat. “I did not mean for my question to sound derogatory, if that is the impression that…”  
“A-ah…no…don’t worry” Gladio said softer and lowered the head slightly. So this was Ignis’ famous ‘communicating’; extra-clarifying things to not cause misunderstandings. It was stupid. And damn, was it incredibly helpful. Gladio had thought for a second… 

They stayed quiet for a moment. Ignis had a hand on the book but the gaze focused whole on Gladio, who stared down every time he looked up and found the man staring. The man looked at him a little, and felt that the beast was behaving rather…anxiously. Not like unable to stop moving or in some attack, but rather in the sense of trying to stay calm with most but not all the success. The claws he rested on his thigh drummed nervously if subtly, and the little movements, his expression and how he seemed to try to force eye contact but breaking it trying for it to look casual…Ignis was not an expert, but this was very obvious to him.  
Gladio _wanted_ him to read something for him. This was not a suggestion, this was a request hidden in the form of a suggestion.

The way Gladio behaved and the little gestures made Ignis think of a like a little kid asking to be taken somewhere, or an even smaller kid requesting to be read his favorite bedtime story, but too shy to ask for it, like thinking he was going to be rejected plus not wanting to sound clingy or to cause troubles, and hence trying to hide his excitement and feeling…that absolutely innocent hope. The kind of hope, precisely, of a child; it may be small to the eyes of adults, but its precisely that they hold such a huge hope for something as ‘small’ as asking to be read something what made it so beautiful. Adults were so used in disappointment they could not hold hope for even the small things. Like Gladio, and his request.

The beast used a hand to scratch behind his ear and looked away, eyes down.  
“You don’t have to, Ignis” the beast said. The man was still staring at him, in understanding of the beast’s little hope. “Sorry…”

It was impossible to reject him when Gladio had touched his heart like that with such an innocent request.

“I see no reason you should apologize, Gladio” Ignis said after a small pause and he quietly took the book with both hands and brought it closer to himself. “I can read aloud. It’s a good suggestion. I’d suggest you read it yourself, but seen as you can’t and you’re curious on it…”  
“If it makes you uncomfortable-”  
“I cannot begin if you don’t keep quiet.”  
“Oh…” Gladio’s ears moved slightly up and he blinked with some surprise at the man. Ignis had behaved like this with him before, most of the time; he sounded rude and as if everything that Gladio did or said annoyed him. But, so far Gladio had learned, that was the entire opposite.  
If he had gotten to know Ignis as well as he thought, that was another way of saying ‘I am not uncomfortable with this; I’ll do it’. 

The beast was more surprised than confused. It took him a few moments, and then he started untensing, with a few ‘Uhm’ sounds here and there while he looked for a way to not make of this awkward, and rested the arms on the table, staring down, and, finding no words, he nodded.  
Ignis still looked at him as if unsure of this, or as if waiting for the beast to say something, but, no words, the man brought the book closer to himself and opened it in the first page. He looked at the beast and found him staring. Ignis looked back at the book and put it back on the table, but made sure to place it in a way so it was between the two instead of only in front of him, giving Gladio the chance to look at it with no troubles and without having to invade each other’s space. 

“…right, uhm…” Ignis started and stared at the first page like he could not understand it either. Gladio sat there waiting patiently and subtly looked at Ignis when the pause lingered too much. The man cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, stared at the page, stayed quiet, and fidgeted a bit more with the glasses. The beast looked at him subtly from time to time, and started growing worried; maybe Ignis _was_ uncomfortable with this, but he was trying to be too kind and did not want to admit it. Gladio was about to open the mouth and tell him it was fine and that it had been a stupid idea anyway, but the man sighed and spoke before he could. “Apologies. I’ve never…” another pause. Ignis was not looking at him and did not turn when he continued. “I’ve never read to anyone aloud before.”

“Never?” Gladio questioned, his curiosity speaking for him. The man shook the head negatively. “But…why?” Ignis did look at him this time with eyes and an expression that clearly said ‘Why should I have done it sometime before?’ The beast shook the head lightly and opened a little more the eyes, as if in disbelief. “You have a…” _don’t say beautiful_ “very nice voice. And I mean, really nice. And nobody’s asked you to read for them before?”  
“Hm…” Ignis looked up with a little smile and sighed. “No. I don’t…” _don’t tell him you don’t have many friends_ “…have the time, usually. And it had never crossed my mind before. I’m not the most talkative among my social circle, so…”  
“Pfft. What a shame” Gladio said and put an elbow to the table to again rest the head on a hand, looking at Ignis, serious. “Your voice has such a pretty color. I’d have asked you years ago was I one of your friends.”

The beast’s ears flapped up when he saw the man’s cheeks turn to red. Ignis had shown to blush in his presence before, but he always managed to hide it in time; this once, as Gladio was looking at him sat side to side, he could see it during the two seconds before Ignis felt his cheeks burn and lowered the head and put a hand up to hide half of his face behind it, looking away. The beast felt his heart skip a beat and he could not help a big smile. It felt nice, that Ignis blushed. It meant he felt flattered. Or embarrassed, but in a good way. While the man pretended to have moved the hand up to cough into it, Gladio smiled watching him and let his tail wiggle happily; he _definitely_ wanted more of this, a flattered Ignis, even more if it was Gladio the reason of his good-kind-of embarrassment. Another selfish thing, but another thing he could not help. 

“Uhm…I will take that as a compliment, thanks” Ignis said without looking his way after finally putting the hand down, trying to sound casual, but Gladio kept smiling and knew better. It took him months, but he had started to learn how to read this man, how much he tried to look cold and like he did not care but hid more than he showed. Ignis grabbed the book again without moving it and gave another little ‘Uhm’, but before he got to reading he turned to Gladio again with a tiny ‘Oh’ like he had forgotten something. He let go of the book with one hand and he reached for the beast’s shoulder. He held it firm but soft enough, and tried to look up at him, forced a smile and broke eye contact again, taking his hand away. Gladio continued looking at him and his tail stopped wriggling when he switched from his earlier excitement to confusion; there it was again, Ignis’ new strange mania for forcefully touching him somehow in an awkward way. 

Ignis let go of him and stared at the book again, clearing his throat, clearly still embarrassed and a little awkward.  
“…how do I begin?” the man whispered more to himself than the beast, and Gladio, once more, decided to do as he had been doing all over the day whenever he interacted with the man; speak what he thought before he really thought too much about it. If he let his brain process his words, he would never dare say a single thing to Ignis, and no conversation would lead him nowhere. The beast put his head on his hand again and smiled.  
“Can I ask you something, Ignis?”  
“Of course” the man replied quietly, turning to look at him again. Gladio felt the man was somewhat glad whenever he took his attention off the book; perhaps reading aloud did embarrass him. Gladio would try to tell him it was fine, but, first, his puzzled and confused brain.  
“What are you doing?”

“I think I would like some more context” Ignis replied and used a hand to adjust his glasses.  
“You’ve been…” Gladio started saying and paused, not breathing, and then let out a breath, staring away. He considered not asking anything, but he gave himself courage remembering about all this issue of ‘communicating’, more as excuse than actual statement. After a short pause and feeling nervous but trying to act casual, the beast looked at him again. “…the little touches you’ve been…” he paused to nervously chuckle. “It’s not that I don’t like them, I do- not like- no, I don’t- I mean, what I mean to say is that they don’t bother me, but…why?”  
“Oh. Uhm…I could…stop if you want?”  
“No, no, it’s not that” Gladio shook the head. “I’m just puzzled. It sort of looks like you’re…” he paused, sighed and dropped the shoulders, and offered a bittersweet smile at the man. “…forcing yourself to do that?”  
“A-ah, no, more than forcing- I mean, yes, you could- but it’s not that way” Ignis tried hurrying, and Gladio tried to remember if he had ever before heard the man stumble upon his words. Ignis Scientia, man of formal and regal flowy speaking, stuttering. New. And somewhat cute. 

Ignis cleared his throat and tried to calm down before he explained.  
“I…tried…I was trying…” he cleared his throat yet again and broke eye contact. He sighed and closed the eyes for a moment, deciding to start from a beginning rather than a middle. “…I…remembered. About that conversation after…the petal events?” he looked at the beast only to watch him nod in silence. “You were in physical stress because I touched you too much…for someone who hadn’t had physical contact with another biological being in five years, so far I understand” again, he waited for any reply, at which Gladio only offered another quiet nod. “I am no expert in this and I don’t think I’ve treated it before, but…I believed, perhaps, that little casual touches that could gradually increase along the days and the weeks could help and, eventually, get rid of your touch starvation” almost as soon as he finished talking, he closed the eyes and sighed, dropping the shoulders. “Apologies. I-I didn’t mean to call it that-”  
“Eh. It’s what it is, so…” Gladio admitted with a shrug, but he did feel his face burning a little; it was weird…to have that condition and hear it from somebody else. 

“I…tried for the touches to be casual” Ignis continued and stared at the book, a finger fidgeting with the corner of the page, shyly. “…but I’m…not…” he sighed. “I’m not…very accustomed to physical interaction. Not even with other humans, it’s nothing personal. So I guess it’s only natural I…didn’t achieve that sensation of casualness.”  
“Oh…” was all that Gladio responded, nodding slowly and staring away, and suddenly feeling his face burn even more under the fur. Ignis gave a low ‘Yes…’ and stared away as well, uncomfortable and suddenly awkward.

Both stayed quiet. Ignis did not seem to be very used to be caught on his intentions when he was trying to keep them quiet, and Gladio was understanding all the things that were not said.  
Ignis was admitting that he was aware the little gestures were so phenomenally and majestically awkward, but he was doing them anyway. For Gladio. Going through that awkwardness just in a sweet if naïve attempt to help him with a physical condition. And Ignis was not used to physical contact. A man that reserved his space to himself, breaking out from his zone of comfort, just to help him with little things to get rid of something much bigger, just to _help_ him…  
How sweet could this man really be? 

Gladio felt his face burn even more, and if it wasn’t because he was in the man’s presence, he would have hidden his face in his hands and would probably also run away to flip a sofa or whatever he found in his way. His stomach tickled and so did his palms, and his heart did but race inside him and scream. None said anything and only stared other ways, both faces burning, a man frowning and a beast not able to do anything else but shyly smile. Some furniture in the room watched with curious eyes, but everyone stayed silent. After an awkward while staring other places and not saying anything, Ignis slowly reached for the book again, not glancing Gladio’s way.  
“…if…it troubles you, however…”  
“No, no” Gladio replied softly, shaking the head. “It’s…I’m…” he cleared his throat before continuing. “…I think it’s going to work. If that’s…fine with you…?”  
“It is…” Ignis quietly replied still without looking his way, toying with the corner of the page of the book, frowning lightly. “I was…hoping to make it a daily thing, for it to work.”

“Oh, uhm…” Gladio looked at his sides as if trying to find the answer somewhere. “Yeah. I mean, that’d be…very useful. I think it may work.”  
“Fantastic” Ignis answered and turned to look at him again, fidgeting a bit with his glasses in his nervous tic once more. “Now, we were trying to read. If you allow me…”  
“Yeah, sure” Gladio replied, unable to do something about his stupidly big smile. He mentally thanked that Ignis had rushed to switch from the awkward conversation back to the previous matter, but his head continued thinking about that, and his smile did but widen. The beast rested the arms on the table and put the side of the head on them. “Whenever you want. And…feel…it’s fine to leave it if you…get too uncomfortable…”  
“I will see” Ignis admitted with a small half-nod at him, and started turning the first few pages to get to the proper beginning of the book. 

Gladio kept quiet, and subtly looked at the man. What he had just learned, it had touched him and had made him feel good in a strange way. His heart felt funny and very much alive. He liked the sensation. ‘Communicating’, so stupid that it had sounded in a beginning, and how good it was making him feel.  
He stayed patient while Ignis stared at the first page. The man still took some moments, and when he sighed as if to calm himself down, Gladio subtly looked at him again and found his cheeks painted in a very soft shade of red. This was embarrassing to Ignis, reading aloud. It really was his first time doing this, and he had no idea where to begin.  
Ignis had not admitted it to him, nor had he mentioned anything about that, but Gladio had noticed from their months together through little things that Ignis had close to zero social skills. It was a bit puzzling, with how friendly and nice this man was, to think he was so deep in the introvert scheme. Introvert did not always mean a shy schoolboy that blushed and hid behind someone else; introvert could also be this. A man trying to sass his way through others because that was the only way he knew how to, and getting awkward when offering a friendly interaction.

The beast moved the head back up to sit straight when Ignis suddenly smiled.  
“The title is ‘The Night Sky on Eos’” he informed Gladio, looking at him and interrupting the beast before he had said anything. Said that, the man turned to the book again and looked at the first page. “Once upon a time…in a land far, far away…”

While he read, he subtly turned to look at the beast. Gladio was looking at the book with incredibly curious eyes that, once more, reminded Ignis to those of a little kid. It was a delightful sight, this beast’s big and beautiful eyes so attentive and curious, moving everywhere looking to understand and learn. Ignis stayed quiet and a small smile started appearing on his face while he watched the beast’s expression transform into a frown, eyes still scanning the page. Ignis tried to contain the smile, but he was failing. This was amusing him and it was difficult to hide. Gladio’s frown of confusion deepened even more, and Ignis saw him shake the head moments before the beast turned to look at him.

“…that’s not what it says, Ignis” Gladio pointed at him, looking at the man with that confused frown. Ignis raised an eyebrow at him and smirked.  
“And how do you know that’s not what it says?” Ignis questioned him. “Mister ‘I can’t read’…”  
“Wha-“ Gladio started asking but dropped it. There was the hint of a smile on his face as he rolled the eyes and snorted. “I’m not reading it! But you said it was scientific mixed with literature. Of course it doesn’t start with ‘once upon a time’.”  
“Well, how could you know? Maybe that’s the way it begins” Ignis said with a faked expression of innocence.  
“Of course not” Gladio’s eyebrows furrowed, but he smiled. “I know this book, it doesn’t start like this.”  
“So you _have_ read this book” Ignis stated with that sly look that Gladio used to despise and that now amused him so much. 

“Are you questioning whether I know how to read or not, Ignis Scientia?”  
“Did you lie to me about it, Gladiolus?”  
“Why would I do that!?”  
“How are you so sure this doesn’t start with ‘Once upon a time’?”  
“Ignis, you took this from the astronomy section. Of course it doesn’t start with-”  
“And how do you know I took it from the astronomy section? By reading the signs?”

The beast laughed.  
“Ignis, I’ve lived here all my life. I know the library. I know where each book goes.”  
“See, but you’re very sure this is ‘The Night Sky on Eos’” Ignis said and watched as Gladio rested his chin on a hand, the elbow to the table, and the beast’s eyes on him. Gladio was smiling, and realizing that made Ignis notice that he too was smiling. “How can you tell? I could have lied, but you’re absolutely sure. Did you, per chance, read the title on the cover?”  
“The book is open, I can’t even see the cover!” Gladio complained and gestured with a hand. The man looked at him with suspicious eyes and a little smile, head turning to a side but never breaking eye contact. The beast just stayed there, quiet, and offered the raise of the eyebrows and a smirk as if saying ‘Are you content yet or do you need more proof? Because I have more proof’. He looked so secure about his innocence in the case, Ignis merely looked away as if accepting his defeat. 

“Fine” Ignis said more quietly after a silence that followed their silly argument. He sighed and reached for the book again. “I guess you really cannot read. Which leaves me with no escape but read aloud.”  
“Really, Ignis, it’s okay if you don’t feel-”  
“You’ve interrupted me two times already and I have yet not even started” Ignis interrupted him and looked at him again, raising an eyebrow. “If you continue like this, I’m afraid I’ll have to postpone this.”  
“No, no” Gladio hurried with a small smile. “I’ll keep quiet, then.”  
“Fine” Ignis smiled back at him and looked at the book. He took in a deep breath again and fidgeted with his glasses once more. “…perhaps it could be easier for me if you…don’t look?”

Gladio hurried a pair of murmured ‘Right’, awkwardly tried to find something else to focus on, and ended up crossing the arms on the table and resting his chin on a forearm, staring at nowhere across of him, smiling. The tip of his tail happily wriggled side to side, and Gladio did nothing to stop it. He felt happy and eager. Besides, it was not like Ignis was looking that way. Ignis cleared his throat and pulled the book into his hands instead of keeping it on the table, somewhat more confident with it in hands.  
“Just pretend I’m not here” the beast suggested. Ignis contained a breath and relaxed; it was a very obvious suggestion, but hearing it felt…comforting. The man whispered a little ‘Yes’ and waited a little longer.

He subtly looked at the beast as if to make sure he really was not going to turn back. Not that it changed anything, but it felt strange to be watched when doing this, and he had yet not even started. After a few moments and yet another sigh, some procrastinating and looking at the beast again, Ignis closed the eyes, tried to stay calm, and opened them again, landing the gaze on the top of the paragraphs.  
“Preface” he paused and looked up at Gladio, on a side as if waiting for Gladio to turn and ask him what a preface was, and on another side as if fearful of seeing him show any reaction of amusement. When the beast said nothing, the man looked back at the book and continued. “From times long gone, even before the man had the mental capacity of reasoning in the same levels and ways that we know today, humankind has always looked up at the sky; serving as calendar to calculate seasons and times of the year in order to know when the rivers would dry, when the animals would migrate, when the plants would bloom. But there has always been a main reason that, I dare say, was a big part of humankind’s evolution: curiosity.”

Ignis paused there and subtly looked up at the beast. The word ‘curiosity’ inevitably reminded him of Gladiolus, the imponent beast that adored getting down on his ankles to look at a ‘curious’ worm on a flower, who liked to look at the ingredients he found in the wild because of their ‘curious’ shape, who enjoyed looking at him cook because he’s ‘curious’. Ignis realized he was smiling only after some moments into it. When he saw one of Gladio’s ear flap, he understood he had taken too long of a pause, so he looked back at the book.  
“The sky has always been easier to look at during night. It looks so close, and, while majestic, rather simple; we could paint a paper in black, and shower it with white dots, and there it is. A night sky. But we ignore all that hides behind it; just like the surface of the ocean, it looks simple but only when we dive into it and across that first-sight cover do we discover the real beauty underneath; the vast space full of life, colors, and endless curiosities to discover and name.”

The man paused yet again to get another subtle look of Gladio, this time not in the fear of being laughed at but rather the desire of seeing some approval from the beast, some sign that could tell him that Gladio was enjoying of this. Because, in some way, Ignis was. Reading aloud, it was much more enjoyable than he thought. Maybe the fact that his listener had agreed no complaints to not look at him as he did but still kept the ears (literally) up as a clear sign of paying attention was helping to the experience.  
Ignis looked at the beast’s back, getting distracted, and moved a hand up. He hesitated as he got it closer, but eventually and a bit tremblingly he placed his hand on Gladio’s back. The beast flinched a bit and his ears moved again, and he was about to turn but he stopped. The gesture was stupidly naïve and it made Ignis smile; Gladio had taken too seriously the petition to not turn back. It was silly, and very sweet.

“I’ll remove it when you tell me” Ignis told him in a whisper. Gladio, who had been mentally writing Ignis’ reading on an imaginary paper, felt that those words would go between braces.  
“Thanks” Gladio whispered back, and closed the eyes, not helping a big smile. His body started untensing, and he heard Ignis’ finger run on the page as if trying to find the sentence where he last left it, and the other hand flat on his back. For a moment, Gladio felt embarrassed and anxious about Ignis finding his hunchback disgusting, but the fear disappeared when he felt Ignis’ hand slowly move up, caressing the outstanding curve, and staying there, fearless. Not moving away. The mere idea of Ignis not removing the hand was more than gratifying, and it made him close the eyes again and untense entirely.  
He could get used to this.

“This book written by one of my most appreciated colleagues will introduce us to the wonders that hide behind the already magnificent night sky” Ignis continued reading, and his hand moved a bit again, finding the place where the shirt ended and Gladio’s hair started. Ignis had to keep the arm almost fully stretched, considering the distance between them and Gladio being taller even when both were sat. “You may be thinking Marcius T. Lumin majored in astronomy studies, considering this book is scientific. Well, not precisely.”  
Ignis paused again and watched his own hand move up, leaving the fabric to bury the fingers into Gladio’s hair. This part of his fur was different from the rest, much softer, and that was to say something, considering all of Gladio’s hair was incredibly silky for such a tough creature. 

Ignis’ fingertips found his scalp, and Gladio shivered under the touch. Ignis removed it and decided it was best to only stroke from the surface, no scalp caressing. The man tried by caressing Gladio’s hair down until reaching the nape, and returning up, very slowly.  
“Is this okay?” Ignis asked in another pair of Gladio’s mental braces. The beast, without turning, nodded. “Remember to tell me when it feels like too much.”  
Again, Gladio merely nodded. The lack of words made Ignis feel two opposite ways; on a side, maybe Gladio was annoyed that Ignis was interrupting his reading. On another side, maybe Gladio was so delighted with it he was saying no words as if to let Ignis continue as soon as possible. Whatever was happening, Ignis thought it was best to retake it.  
“Marcius majored in literature studies, and has dedicated to the life of an author” Ignis continued reading and paused only to turn the page. His other hand did not stop caressing Gladio’s hair. “However, he has always shown interest in the art of astronomy, and while not an academic, he’s still a scholar of the astronomical knowledge, thanks to his passion that has led him to read endless books on the matter. This way, Marcius has done his Opus Magnus here, merging his two passions: the art of words and the cosmos.”

The beast took in a breath and slowly let it out through the nose. He had relaxed so much even his ears had gone down, but they stayed fully attentive to the man. While Ignis read, his other hand continued stroking Gladio’s hair in a cascade motion; from the top down to the nape, and returning. It was not as relaxing as when the man had used the fingertips against his scalp, but Gladio preferred it like this, at least for a while. Until…until he got used to this.  
He could do that.

Ignis’ voice, beautiful on its own, was reading to him. He had a very wonderful way of reading, not only thanks to the beautiful color of his voice, but because of how he used it, how he used the commas, where and how he paused, like he had written the book himself and knew how to bring it to life word by word. The voice’s color was pretty already, and the use Ignis gave it was as pretty. Was there a single inch of this man that was not beautiful? If his voice could be materialized, it would be the same than his body; in appearance it was beautiful. And the way it moved made it even more beautiful; graceful and elegant and perfect and how can somebody so darn stupidly _beautiful_ exist?  
And how could someone so beautiful not deny his touch, him, such a hideous creature?

While Ignis read aloud for him, each word gaining confidence and starting to sound less nervous and more into the book, and with each millimeter that Ignis’ hand moved down his hair, Gladio felt more and more blessed. For a moment, like this, alone with Ignis and the man offering all the kindness in the world in such simple gestures that, nonetheless, meant the world to the beast, Gladio felt _complete._ Five years into negativity, and he felt complete for once again. If he did not feel accepted, at least he did not feel rejected. Something as simple as reading aloud next to him and stroking his hair. Gladio had to feel bad that something as small felt like so much, but he was feeling too content to find any bad side on this.

This man had never been a curse. He had always been a blessing, and it took him months to realize.

Gladio forgot for a moment that this was a prisoner, and enjoyed of the idea of getting used to this. Because, the Six damn, he really, _really_ could get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind no attention to the rating change from Teen to Mature.
> 
> It'll change to Explicit at some point, anyway. :p
> 
> No spoiling anything, but I thought well about it and the violence gets explicit in the future chapters following "Tale As Old As Time", and there will be things I consider as triggering. For now I leave it like that as it still doesn't get bad. 
> 
> Also, sowing doesn't work like that; one first bloom then getting a plant three times a week. That's an excuse for the orchard to work for them in the context of the story, and me making fun of how ridiculously fast the plants grow in-game, haha.
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you're enjoying.
> 
> I want to thank you yet again for staying here with me and this story. It amazes me how much you have read, how far you've gotten.
> 
> It means lots to me you're staying here with this massive fanfiction.
> 
> Thank you.


	23. 21st O'Clock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking so long!
> 
> I was uninspired because this is by faaaaaaaaaaaaar the **least** fluffy and **least** important of the befriending part of the story. 
> 
> By far! Chapters ahead are 10 times fluffier and with more action (and maybe some feels/sadness here and there, but in a good way). 
> 
>  
> 
> **This chapter may feel repetitive as all it shows is Gladio and Ignis doing things they've done before, in a way to compare how their relationship has progressed, but future chapters will all be new/different things.**
> 
>  
> 
> Apologies if this is tiring.
> 
> Still, I hope you enjoy the first steps into their friendship! :)

Noctis waddled his way through the hallways of the castle, searching for Ignis.

He knew that he should not be doing it, at least not for the reason that he knew he was doing it for, but he could not help his excitement. While his interaction with Ignis was mostly following him and sitting nearby him in silence, Noctis had never felt so good with someone before. There was something in Ignis that made Noctis so comfortable that the little clock could not help but feel attached to him, and it seemed to be reciprocate. Noctis was the only one that Ignis had told his intimate problems to, and Ignis had listened to the clock talk about his father in a way he let only counted others hear. For the past month (or had it been longer already…?), Noctis had spent all nights in his room, sleeping on a chair, because even when he was only sat there in absolute silence with Ignis it felt like bonding and creating…something with him.

Noctis never had a brother, but he thought this is what it had to feel like. He felt a bond of brotherhood with both Prompto and Gladio, and he was discovering he felt the same towards Ignis, even despite only having spent only a few couple months with him so far, and the three relationships were different. There was no better or worse, only different dynamics, and Ignis’ particularly was a different sort of brother bond. There was something about him that Noctis trusted wholeheartedly and that made him want to sit with the man in silence for hours. He could be playful with Prompto, and Gladio had always felt like the protective type (not only physically), but Ignis was more like a refuge of the heart. He could be intimate with all three of them, but Ignis was…maybe the one that Noctis felt most understood by. 

So while he knew that he should not be doing it, he could not deny that he felt overexcited that day because it was the first in five years that there was any difference, and it felt good. Because he could still be a clock, the rose could be near death, he could have been watching his dear brother be more and more consumed by the beast, but he had met Ignis that year, and that was more than enough to make of it, that week, and that particular one day absolutely special, exciting and joyful for the tiny clock. For once, he was not focusing in only mourning his dad and people and kingdom and his own miserable state, he had something else that not only distracted him but also eased the negativity in him, and Noctis could not help but run across the hallways looking for him. 

He felt a little silly; so, so overly excited like a little toddler looking desperately for his teacher, looking for their approval and nice words, where the teacher meant the whole world to the toddler, even though he knew that to the teacher he was only one of the other thousands of toddlers they knew. He had promised to himself to not tell Ignis about what day it was (or, more precisely, what was celebrated that day), but in the end he got too excited and too into the need of getting Ignis’ congratulations that he could not help it. It almost felt necessary, like it was not happening until Ignis said something to him. 

In his defense, Prompto got him way too overexcited with that painting, so it was not at all Noctis’ fault, the clock thought while looking into a room with no success. The little clock had asked for directions, but he had yet not found the man ever since he lost sight of him after Ignis left for the training hall like usual.  
It still took him a couple of rooms before he heard noises that could only be made by a person, so the little clock excitedly hurried up as if Ignis would disappear if he did not. With such short legs and lack of proper knees, Noctis hurried so much that he fell face-first to the floor, but he did not mind it much and came back up on his feet and continued as fast as before, until he reached the door and looked inside. 

Ignis seemed to be recently done cleaning that room. While Noctis was looking inside, some brooms were exiting without glancing his way, but he did not question it; just like all the people in the Citadel were turned into furniture, some furniture came to life, but without the human side. They could move and understand what they were told, but had no feelings, thoughts of their own, or a voice. They made great servants, and Noctis often fantasized about the impossible scenario where all the humans could go back to their original selves while the rest of the furniture could also stay alive. They would make chores very easy, and he could send a broom for a snack. They would not complain or refuse or go with the adults to tell them.

After the furniture had exited, Noctis looked again into the room. Ignis had yet not noticed him and was distracted tying the curtains. Suddenly, the little clock felt a pinch inside, and all the excitement that had made him run had now turned entirely into shyness. He felt a little scared, and his Tick-Tack increased like a heartbeat would do, though thankfully it was only for himself to hear. He stared down and hid behind the doorframe, metal and wooden hands suddenly toying with each other, anxious. Noctis wondered where all the nervousness was coming from and why. Maybe it was because it would be the first time that Ignis said something to him about that day, which was very exciting. Or maybe because it was also the last…. It felt weird. To do something for either the first or the last time, or to do something that was both of those.

He took in a breath and his hands still fidgeted together a little longer, and he looked into the room again. Ignis was tying the other end of the curtain, calmly. Noctis tried to calm down, pushed one of his needles down so it wouldn’t get in the way of his eyes, and started walking into the room, terribly shy. He slowed down and stopped, looking up at Ignis. After a moment, he took some steps ahead again, and finally the man heard him and turned his way.  
“Noctis” he greeted calmly, like usual. “Good day.”  
“Good day, Specs” Noctis said not helping the sudden excitement, like that ‘good day’ had been what he was waiting for. Shyness overtook again and he looked away, hands still shyly playing together. “…uhm…what…what are you doing?”  
“Finishing with this room” Ignis informed him, and continued tying the curtain. “I’ve been slow these past weeks, but I’ve caught up with this.”  
“Huh…”

Noctis said nothing after that. One of his feet shyly poked and rubbed the floor, where he looked at. He had gone there absolutely sure of what he wanted to tell Ignis, but he never stopped to think about _how_ , and now he stood there, not knowing what to say or how to say it.  
“Is there anything you need?” Ignis asked him after the pause lingered, done with the curtain and going over to the clock.  
“I, uh, uhm…n-no, I just…” Noctis hesitated and stuttered a little. Noticing the anxious way his tiny fingerless hands played together and how nervous and shy he was acting, Ignis knew that his little friend required of something, so he patiently waited. When the pause lingered again, Ignis picked Noctis in his hands and put him on the desk nearby, and he bent enough to be at his same height.  
“Everything in order?” Ignis asked him with a tiny smile, and Noctis looked up at him, grew flustered, stuttered a little more, and gave a shy agreement, before he only stared down, watching his hands. After a while, Ignis’ smile faded and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. “Are you sure?”

“Y-yeah” Noctis said and looked up at him, but continued staring away. “I uhm, I just…I wanted to…” and, as he spoke, the idea hit his head. He turned to look at Ignis with a look similar to Talcott’s, all hopeful and innocent, like a child. “I just…! I wanted to tell you, you have to see the painting Prompto gave me!”  
“Oh” Ignis blinked, remembering. “Of course. Where is it?”  
“I’ll show you” Noctis said and reached for the edge of the desk, but Ignis again took him in his hands to put him down.

While the clock waddled his way out the room and back where he had come from, Ignis calmly followed behind. He had almost forgotten about Prompto’s painting; for a moment, when Noctis reminded him of it, the man had thought about telling him that he had already seen it and had checked up on it a couple times after the first time he saw it, but he did not want to ruin Noctis’ excitement and tried to pretend he had no idea the painting existed. He could not believe he had forgotten about it.  
But, then again, ever since he started growing new habits a week ago that had been keeping him a bit…busier than usual…  
Almost by reflex, Ignis looked around while he walked behind an excited and running Noctis. He tried to lie to himself and believe it was not the case, but he knew he _was_ looking for the beast, see if he was nearby. It happened often since that first day they spent like…proper friends. He was unsure of why, but he often looked around as if expecting to see Gladiolus nearby. It was not excitement; he was not looking around excited to see him, but he was not looking around out of paranoia either, but he also could not say that he did not care, because he _was_ looking around. It was strange, and he was not sure he could explain why. It felt sort of like when he first started working as a teacher, and often kept a sense alert in case the school’s head teacher would be around, or when Aranea first started training him, and he could not help but being alert in case she was nearby outside the training grounds.

Well, if he put it like that, then what he was feeling was the fear of being judged by Gladio. He had no reasons for that, he thought.  
But, then again, if he cared about how Gladio judged him, it was a way to say he cared about what Gladio thought about him.  
Whatever way he put it, it simply ended up summarized as ‘I care’…

Before he could go deep into thinking if Gladio felt the same way, he was taken from his thoughts when Noctis stumbled in front of him and almost fel. Suddenly, Ignis felt bad; he had been selfish enough to walk lost in thoughts while the little clock rushed to not keep Ignis waiting. One Ignis step was like fifteen from Noctis’ waddling steps. It was only logical how they should have been walking this entire time, but Ignis had been too busy with himself and his thoughts that he had let Noctis go on his own.  
Feeling bad and maybe too guilty for such a little thing, Ignis offered to carry him instead. Noctis offered no complaints and let the man pick him up, and proceeded to verbally guide him through some hallways before reaching another room. Ignis had already been there across the months of his stay in the castle, because it was clean (and the furniture made sure to keep it that way).

The painting was on a desk, put against a wall. It looked like it had been put there just casually, not like its future eternal spot. Ignis smiled; no matter if he had already seen it, it was such a precious painting that he could not help but feel appreciation for it like it was the first time.  
Once inside, Ignis put Noctis down on the desk and smiled at him before focusing on the painting. Noctis shared the smile with him and approached the canvas. He sat in front of it like a child, in a way so he could look at it or Ignis only by turning. He smiled proudly at it, and with great affection as well. It only made Ignis smile more widely; how blessed Noctis was, having a bond like the one he had with Prompto. He stared at the painting, the second Noctis that stared back at them with his huge painted blue eyes. They were not very human-like, as they were mostly just a giant blue iris (no pupil, only a small circle of light on the corner of each iris), but they were not scary either. He really liked them; he liked how absolutely, impossibly beautiful they were, but he also adored the quantity of emotions they transmitted. And Prompto did a _wonderful_ job capturing that. He had done a better job than even some proper humans with fingers.

“It’s beautiful” Ignis whispered after a while as he stared. He rested the arms on the desk and put his chin on them, still staring. Even though it was not the first or second time he looked at the painting, it was like each time he saw it he found something new, or he was simply caught again by the eyes that almost seemed to have spirit of their own.  
“I know” Noctis replied proudly with as much of a smirk as a clock could make. “Prom never ceases to amaze me.”  
“Yes” was all that Ignis thought of replying, still staring.  
Both friends spent a while only looking at the canvas and the clock that stared back at them, quiet, only looking. 

A few minutes passed before Noctis looked away from the painting and he remembered why he had wanted to show Ignis, besides the wish of showing him as itself. He felt that pinch again that was always followed by the sudden shyness, and he felt his interior engines tickle a little out of nervousness; he _knew_ he did not have to tell Ignis, but what was the worst that could happen? The Wizard said nobody could remember them and it seemed to be as in being literally _unable_ to remember no matter how many times they told them. Ignis would have easily remembered as soon as he heard Noctis’ name the first time, or Gladio’s, as a matter of fact, or seen many of the symbols or patterns in the Citadel, but all that he ever got were headaches and déjà vus. So, Noctis guessed, something as harmless as telling him what day it was could not be so bad. It was not like he was telling him his full name, or something like that.

The worst that could happen was for Ignis to get another headache. It was…selfish. Noctis did not want him to get a headache. But he also did not want and could not let the day go without telling Ignis, so Ignis could tell him something back, or at least know. Noctis was sure that the rose did not have much time of life, and, hence, so didn’t he or anyone else in the Citadel, with Ignis’ exception. Even though he was not sure how much time they had left, he highly doubted it would be another year. It was the last time he lived that specific day. He could not let the last opportunity of telling Ignis to pass.

“S-so, uhm…” Noctis started after a moment, still sat next to the painting. He was staring down and his hands, again, gripped each other with shyness. Ignis looked away from the painting to focus on his friend, who still hesitated some moments before continuing. “Did…did…do you…it was a gift from Prompto.”  
“A very wonderful gift” Ignis replied with a smile. Noctis nodded at him, excited, and stayed quiet a few more seconds.  
“S-so, uhm” Noctis started, nervous “…so…do you know- as in- I mean, do you know why he gifted it to me?”  
“Hm…” Ignis’ eyes moved up as he remembered. “Well, he said something about how you like Fridays.”  
This seemed to have taken Noctis a bit off-guard, as he blinked in surprise, stayed quiet, and then proceeded to awkwardly and hesitatingly agree with a couple ‘Ah, yes, of course’. 

Noctis looked back at the painting, still quiet and shy, but Ignis did not pressure him. It was clear that the clock had been meaning to say something for a while but had not found how to do it. Still, the man did not want to pressure him, and thought that staying quiet was the best way, if he had managed to learn how to read Noctis by now. After a while, Noctis stared down and blinked, still with that child-like look on himself.  
It was some moments later that an idea seemed to strike him again, and he looked up at Ignis once more with those huge sapphire eyes.  
“Say, Specs” the clock called, “do you remember when I told you about my…my…dad?”  
“Of course” Ignis said softly and nodded. “Are you…sad about-”  
“No, no” Noctis shook the head. “Remember I told you he was…a…clockmaker?” by any answer, Ignis nodded. “Ah. Well. I, uhm…it just…happens…” one of his hands moved up so he scratched one of his sides in a gesture that looked like a person scratching their head. “…I…I…actually…remember…uhm…the day that he…made me” Noctis sounded unsure, like he was making this up, but Ignis did not question him. “Not as in- ew, not as in the day he _made_ me, as in, as in the day he…finished me?”

“Oh!” Ignis blinked in surprise. “Some clockmakers write the day they finished their pieces somewhere in the clock.”  
“Yes! Precisely, that!” Noctis said excitedly. “I have that date!”  
“That’s very nice, Noct!” Ignis smiled, not helping to find the clock’s joy contagious.  
“And, as in, I mean, it’s not the same day than when the curse….” the clock gestured little, and even though he left the sentence unfinished, Ignis understood. “It’s rather the date when…I was made. And it’s, it’s…” Noctis seemed to hesitate a little, then he grew a bit shier again, and his body shrugged a little like a turtle trying to hide into its shell. “…and…it’s…today.”

Ignis blinked with slight surprise, mouth opening very subtly.  
“Not as in, today, _today_ , obviously” the clock hurried before Ignis could say anything. “I mean as in today is…the…anniversary…”  
“Oh” Ignis said and gave a one-movement nod. “I see. It…could be said that today is your…” the clock did not complete the phrase, and only offered that slightly shy look of sorts. Ignis blinked again and let the pause linger a moment. “…birthday?”  
As a response, Noctis nodded, shy and quiet, and stared down, but his smile widened very noticeably.  
“…oh” Ignis repeated, blinking as if a bit startled. “In that case” his smile widened until it transformed into a soft and small grin, “happy birthday, Noctis.”

The clock’s face almost seemed _radiant_ when he heard that. It was a bit strange, as he had no recognizable facial features other than the pair of painted eyes and mouth, but the way his eyes lit up and his smile started the widen, and the way he looked at Ignis made the latter feel that, had Noctis been human, his face would have spread light like someone gaining hope or hearing the best news in the world. However, the clock said nothing. He seemed as if too happy for words, though the shyness kept his expression more calm than he really was, and the only thing he could do as a response was to nod. He looked like he was going through such a _pure_ happiness that Ignis felt a pinch in the heart just watching him.

Ignis was not sure of why, but this seemed to mean a lot to the clock, much more than he was showing. Still, Ignis was not one to question the reasons, and only grew sympathetic with the feelings.  
“Uhm…” he started, a bit awkward, eyebrows furrowing a bit. “Is it…okay if I hug you?”  
Noctis’ smile was gone for a moment and he had the same expression of a child once again, not believing this, but he soon smiled again as excitedly as before, nodding eagerly, and pushed himself up on his feet. Ignis could not help a wide smile at the cute image of the clock so excited that he grew mute hurrying his waddle towards him with the hands stretched up. It was so…not Noctis. The little clock that was always acting like he did not care, socially awkward, that avoided physical contact unless it came from Prompto, stretching his hands to him asking for a hug like a toddler. It made Ignis wonder again if there was any particular reason this meant so, so much to Noctis, but stayed quiet again, and only stretched the hands as well.

It was awkward and Ignis wondered what sort of image he was offering, hugging a clock to his shoulder. He could not round the arms around him, as couldn’t Noctis, but he kept both palms pressed to the clock’s back, and felt Noctis’ tiny hands on him as if hugging back as well. None said anything, and let the hug linger for as much as was necessary. A sudden aura of intimacy fell on them like a veil and they did not break apart in a long while, both in absolute silence.

Which was contaminated only by the Tick Tack of the clock’s needles. As close and almost pressed to his ear, Ignis could hear the Tick Tack loud and clear, as the only thing between the two. A clock, Noctis had no heartbeat or breathing, so it only helped the ticking to be more noticeable.

Tick, tack, on and on, slow but constant. Like the withering rose, and its slow but constant pace that was guiding them all to a certain death. 

Ignis exhaled through the nose and pressed Noctis closer and shut the eyes more tightly, as if to scare the sudden thoughts that reminded him that this could as well be the only chance he would ever have to wish this, the tiny clock that had stolen a piece of his heart and had nested into it, that he adored with all his soul, a happy birthday.

And he understood why this meant a lot to Noctis.

\--

While having Ignis know it was Noctis’ birthday did not seem to trigger him into remembering anything, Gladio still wanted to take precautions; no matter if his ascension to the throne had been more of a theory than practice, sudden and tragic, and even if he was a king of nothing, the people of the Citadel were still incredibly fond of the clock as their king and as a superior. It was not strange to hear people call him by ‘Majesty’ or ‘Sire’ or even ‘king’, some that still called him by ‘prince’ (because they were used to it and, with no ceremony of Noctis’ ascension and no proper ceremony for Regis’ funeral, they didn’t often remember that Noctis was no longer a prince). Whatever the name, people behaved towards him as if they were humans and referred to him with proper titles.

Noctis’ birthday triggered a lot of people into congratulating him, adding, of course, whatever title they wanted to call him. So while there was not a royal ball with flashy banners and people screaming it, Gladio would have no proper answer to Ignis if the man heard all the quantity of ‘Happy birthday, your Majesty/prince Noctis’ through the Citadel. Ignis was cursed with amnesia, not deaf. So Gladio thought that maybe getting him away of the castle, at least for a while, could be useful until everyone would be done with the birthday wishes.  
And so, Gladio took him hunting again.

Like everyday for the past week, Ignis had taken lunch with Gladio. The beast was not sure if he was making any proper progress about behaving better at the table, and Ignis nagging him was still a constant thing, but he tried every time they sat together, and he had even started to try even during breakfasts, the only meal when Ignis was not present. Sometimes, he grew a bit embarrassed and shy when the furniture looked at him curiously, as if wondering why if Ignis was not present he still tried to use utensils properly and to not mess up, and dropped it, but sometimes he really did try. He did not want Ignis to think of him as the beast he was, he wanted Ignis to look at him without disgust, so if he needed to use utensils, he would.

During that day, conversation seemed to flow a bit easier than normal, and he had to fight against his tail while bringing the dishes to the kitchen so it would stop; each time he made a bit of progress with Ignis he could not help but grow very excited, so he could not help his body’s reactions, as much as he hated them. It was then that he made the suggestion to go hunting, and Ignis agreed along a small smile. It gave Gladio great struggle to hold his tail still; the previous times he had taken him to hunt, Ignis had looked away, serious, even frowning, and quietly accepted. This time, it was like he had invited the man to grab a snack, and he accepted no troubles or complaints. It made Gladio notice the great progress he had gotten with befriending him since the last time they went hunting weeks from then.

That was how, after a while, Gladio waited outside the door that led from the kitchen to the gardens, holding his broadsword, a bag, and a lance, waiting for Ignis. Gladio had suggested they let the food digest before going out, and so they said they would meet there an hour from lunch. Gladio was there half-an-hour earlier, fearing he would “be late”. During his wait, he feared that Ignis would not show up, as if the man had anything else to do. It was a senseless fear, but Gladio could not help it. Ignis, of course, showed up. They exchanged some greetings, and proceeded to head to the outside gates from the back. 

Gladio gave Ignis the lance before they had started walking away of the kitchen’s door, which took the man a bit off-guard. While he walked next to the beast in silence across the garden, he turned to look at him as if expecting to see him laugh and take the lance back, but Gladio did not even glance his way. Ignis stared down at the weapon in his hands; last time they had gone hunting, Gladio had waited until they were outside, threatened and warned him, and _then_ gave him the weapon, always keeping an eye intensely on him. This time he just handed it out like it was an apple and was staring other ways, not as if ignoring him on purpose, rather entirely distracted. Because he did not care. Because he did not mind that Ignis was walking with him with a weapon in hands. 

Ignis felt a bit overwhelmed; he was being given a huge demonstration of trust, and it suddenly felt like a responsibility that he did not want to ruin. He grasped the lance and contained a sigh in his chest, distracted in his own thoughts to see the way Gladio looked at the garden.  
Gladio had not paid much attention, as used as he was to the trash of a place the gardens had become and preferring to ignore them, but now that he was looking around he found the gardens to be…less of a trash place. There were still plague plants everywhere, but most of the grass had been cut and that made a _huge_ difference by itself. He also noticed many of the dead plants had been removed. Ignis had been working hard on the gardens; no wonder he had made less noise inside the past days, he had not been focusing in cleaning the inside of the Citadel as much as he had been focusing on the gardens…

Before Gladio could continue looking, they arrived to the gates, which he opened. Even though he let Ignis walk out first, he caught up with him and started walking at his side. That, Ignis noted as well.  
Even though they were walking side to side instead of Gladio walking behind him to keep his every movement under watch, Ignis still did not want to go too far away or move further to a side than the path Gladio was walking, fearing he could anger the beast. He had done great progress with earning Gladio’s trust to ruin it with something so trivial; the bond was fragile as it was in process of growing and changing, so anything could be a step in false. So, even though some places called his attention, or some bush seemed interesting to find new ingredients, or if he was curious about some other place, he stayed quiet and only walked with Gladio wherever the beast wanted to go.

“It’s been a while since we last did this” Gladio told him after such a long silence, not stopping on the way.  
“Indeed” Ignis replied, adjusting his glasses onto his nose. “Anything in particular you wish to hunt?”  
“There’s been some…dangerous animals plaguing the area” Gladio said, and Ignis could not help to notice the way he seemed to have changed the words to call what anyone else would have called ‘beasts’. “More than hunting for food, we’re gonna hunt for safety. That okay with you?”  
“Yes, of course” Ignis nodded once, and was taken a bit off guard when Gladio changed direction, trying to catch up with him.  
“Good” Gladio smiled down at him. “Hope you haven’t forgotten how to do this.”

The comment earned him the lift of one of Ignis’ eyebrows. The way it almost seemed automatic, like Ignis could not control it and it went up on its own when hearing commentaries like that, was amusing to Gladio and he did not hide it. Ever since they stopped arguing and since Ignis stopped using his sarcasm to insult him, his sassiness had turned from insufferable to rather comical at times. Ignis did ask a small ‘What are you laughing at?’, but the beast only shook the head and hurried a bit more the steps, which startled Ignis and forced the human to hurry his steps as well.  
When Ignis caught up with him, Gadio hurried again. Ignis stopped only for a moment, frowning and looking at him with disbelief, and then rushed again to catch up once more and get some steps ahead.

Laughing again, Gladio quickened his pace until he was running, and Ignis was once more triggered into running to take the lead. When he saw his slender form pass at his side, Gladio laughed louder; gods, this man took everything too seriously. It was _so_ easy to trigger him into doing some stupidity so long he could demonstrate he was better at it. How much Ignis hated to feel like he was not on control, and how much Gladio adored to mess with that fact.  
Gladio went down on all four paws and started running, speeding past Ignis at such a pace that the man stopped running and only watched him speed away, amazed and a bit startled.

Ignis stood there, breathing heavy from the small run he had, and stared at the running ball of fur that grew smaller and smaller. Ignis’ expression deformed in absolute confusion, and he looked around himself as if expecting anyone to appear and explain this to him.  
Had Gladio just…run away, leaving him standing there, in the open field? 

Ignis waited in silence staring at the last spot where he saw Gladio disappear among many trees, expecting him to appear and come back. After three minutes staring, it got really awkward and he looked around again, unsure of what to do, if he had to follow, or wait there, or if this was a prank. He heard some noises in some bushes and, as alert as he was, he let out a tiny sound of surprise and turned in that direction, holding the lance up, but found nothing. More minutes went with Ignis awkwardly standing there not knowing what to do and looking around, like a lost child.  
He felt a shiver run down his spine and turned around carefully; something was watching him. He held the lance up and started approaching a bush, carefully and slowly. He turned when he heard noises from another side, and stood still, ears and eyes and senses alert.

And, then, something tapped his shoulder.  
Ignis let out a small yelp as he turned around, swinging the lance.  
Gladio avoided it easily.

The human stood there, watching the beast with wide eyes, and saw him burst in laughter. Ignis stood paralyzed while the beast pointed at him with a finger, laughing, nothing too loud, but still laughing. Ignis shook the head in short and quick movements.  
“I-I could have killed you, Gladiolus!” Ignis nagged and turned around, shaking the head, rolling the eyes and sighing shortly.  
“Yeah, don’t think so” Gladio said as he stopped laughing, sniffling once, and laughing shortly again. “So besides short, you’re slow.”  
“I’m neither short or slow, you just have a very unfair advantage” Ignis argued on his defense, crossing the arms while still holding the lance in a hand. “I thought we were done with the arguing weeks ago.”

“We’re not arguing” Gladio said and pulled his sword up so he could rest its weight against one of his shoulders. “We’re joking.”  
“So arguing is how you joke with your friends?” Ignis asked him with a small hint of sarcasm.  
“Of course” Gladio looked serious. “That’s why I’m arguing with you.”

Ignis blinked clearly taken a bit off-guard. He looked at Gladio some moments before staring away, smiling softly and subtly. The beast smiled as well even though Ignis was not seeing him, content and a bit proud.  
“Well, let’s go” Gladio said after a long pause. “The bad guys are that way. Try to not stay behind, will you?”  
The human first smiled at him friendly, before the smile turned into the playful scheme, he rolled the eyes again, and looked away, shaking the head as if in disbelief. Gladio chuckled and grinned some moments, and before he could take the first step, Ignis turned to him again, and stretched a hand towards him, that he laid on Gladio’s arm. He patted there and left the hand on it some moments, smiled once more, and let go at the time he started walking.

Gladio smiled a little, shook the arms slightly, and started walking after Ignis to catch up with him.  
It was cute. Ignis had kept his word about wanting to try daily tiny touches that could eventually help Gladio get rid of his touch starvation. Gladio was not sure if they would work, but he was enjoying of the effort Ignis was putting on it. He was a very introvert man with touch aversion, so for him to break out of the zone of comfort and give up something of his own just to help him, that alone, the mere intention, helped greatly. It still tickled in a way that made Gladio nervous, and he was not sure if it would disappear, but where he _was_ seeing progress was in Ignis. The way he reached for Gladio was still unnatural and very awkward, way too thought-through, in strange moments, but now, a week growing the habit, it had grown less forced, less hesitant. Gladio did not know if they could fix his touch-starvation, but they seemed to be making progress on Ignis’ touch aversion, and that was good enough to him. 

Once he caught up with Ignis, the man himself brought some conversation up about where he had left the sword to break out running on all four. As Gladio could not explain to him the armiger’s function, he started coming up with excuses, which triggered a bit more of conversation, and a couple friendly arguments, the sort that he used to joke with his friends.

\--

It was a couple hours later that they started heading back to the castle. Like always, the way back was much more full of conversation than the way there, and much more lighthearted. It was easier to talk and joke around after loosing up, relieving some stress, and sharing good stories among ‘did you see the once when I did that thing?’ or ‘and the once when you dodged like that?’, among other things. They headed their way back side by side, not arguing unless it was one or two playful comments, or in comfortable silence. 

It did not take them long to arrive to what had apparently become their spot on the little hill, the one with yellowish and other little flowers carpeting the entire ground and some bushes, and from where they had a clear view of the landscape north of the castle. This time, Gladio did not even ask him if he wanted to rest; as if it had become a habit like many other things between them, as if it was obligatory, or simply routine, Gladio arrived first, dropped the sword, and dropped himself on his buttocks with a content and relaxed sigh. Ignis smiled a bit and went down as well, less harshly than his companion, and let go of the lance. Both put their weapons at their sides so there was nothing between them. That day, Ignis sat two yards of distance from him.

Gladio stretched the arms and groaned as he released the tension in his spine, and Ignis only looked at him some moments, loosely hugging his knees, and then turned his attention to the horizon. No matter how many times he looked there, it always marveled him. It was a beautiful sight, and each time he looked at the distant small lake and the rock arcs that looked giant to him, he could not help but to wish for the possibility of, one day, travelling to the Duscae region, where it was said there were arcs five times the size of those that he could see from that spot nearby the Citadel. He smiled and stayed quiet just staring, the sun kindly up, clouds enough to make it enjoyable, and a catoblepas that looked tiny, barely a dot, seen from there. 

Both stayed quiet a long while, only looking to the distance, each in their own thoughts and own admiration, quiet, and peace.  
After a while, Gladio held half of his weight back on his hands, and he let out a sigh.  
“What a nice day” the beast said calmly, and he looked like he would drop on his back any second, like last time they had gone out to hunt and he lied down, closed the eyes, and possibly took a tiny nap, and Ignis had been sat at his side, with two weapons at hand, but not a single desire to do any harm to ‘the last frightening creature on Eos’. Ignis smiled a bit at the memory.  
“A nice day, indeed” he agreed even though he also noted that every time they tended to go out seemed to be a ‘nice day’ for the beast. It took a moment before Ignis remembered the events of earlier that day, and he turned to look at Gladio. “Today is Noctis’ birthday” the mention made the beast turn to look at him with a blank expression, if slightly confused. Ignis looked at him for any signs of recognition, but just to make sure he added, “did you know?”

Gladio took a few seconds to continue looking at him blankly as if though he was the one waiting for a reaction, before he chuckled and looked away.  
“Did _you_ know?”  
“He told me” Ignis said as if excusing himself. He heard the beast chuckle again, and saw him distractedly start swinging one of his feet. Now that he paid attention to them, as he rarely did, Ignis remembered to have thought his feet to have been frightening when he first saw him, but now they looked normal to him. He must have gotten used to all of Gladio’s shape by now, he assumed.  
“Yeah” Gladio said. “Tiny clock getting old.”  
“How old is he?” Ignis questioned, curiosity triggered. 

Gladio hesitated at first, if there was anything wrong with telling him the truth. He hated having to think about lying to Ignis, but it was something he and everyone else had to be careful with, make sure to think before speaking to make sure they would not reveal something they couldn’t. But, after a fleeting reflection, he decided that it was nothing serious.  
“Twenty one” he said. “Of course, only five since the curse, but he…exists…uh…”  
“Yes, I understand” Ignis replied after Gladio did not seem to find the words he was looking for. “Five since the curse, twenty one since he was made” the way he phrased it made Gladio look up and half-nod as if saying ‘well that’s not a lie’. “He’s very young. I thought he would be…” he shrugged. “A hundred years old.”  
Gladio laughed at the comment, and Ignis felt a little embarrassed.  
“I mean, for a clock with such a classic-art style, I thought he had been crafted a long time ago” Ignis said again as if in self-defense.

For some reason he could not grasp, Gladio still laughed again at the comment, like there was something Ignis was missing on the information. He grew a bit grumpy, but not in a way that could spoil the peaceful while.  
“You say he’s very young like you’re fifty or something” Gladio said with a slight hint of teasing, a cocky smile on his face. “You can’t be much older than him.”  
“You say _that_ like _you_ are much older” Ignis argued back, with that characteristic raise of an eyebrow. “Are you?”  
“I asked first.”  
“You didn’t ask anyth-”  
“It was implicit, but yes, I did.”  
“That doesn’t count.”  
“Of course it does. It’s implicit, but it’s there.”

Ignis sighed shortly with a ‘Puff’ sound and rolled the eyes. It only made Gladio laugh lowly like a child trying to refrain laughter and failing. The man was looking away, but there was definitely a subtle smile on his face. He side-glanced at the beast, who only grinned playfully at him, and after a pause, Ignis gave a half-chuckle half-exhale and lowered the eyes for a moment.  
“Twenty-two” he finally said, lowly.  
“Twenty-two?” Gladio asked him, curious, smile leaving. “Really?”  
“Do I not look my age?” Ignis asked both a little teasingly and honestly curious, leaning back instead of keeping the arms around his knees, in a much more relaxed pose. Gladio watched him a moment, smiled slightly as if thinking about something else, and then looked away with a shrug.  
“Not really. Most of the time” the beast said softly. Ignis gave him a playfully suspicious look, but got no more information about it, so he felt forced to insist.

“Do I look older?” he asked. It still took a moment for the beast who only watched him and let a foot distractedly swing, before he shrugged again.  
“Sometimes” Gladio said, “and sometimes younger.”  
“That makes no sense, are you aware?” Ignis asked him with a small smile. Gladio laughed lowly as response. “How can it be sometimes older, sometimes younger?”  
“Well…” Gladio looked away, eyes going up like he was reflecting about it or trying to arrange his words in his head before saying anything. Ignis waited patiently until the beast started talking again. “Sometimes, it feels like you’re carrying with the weight of the world.”

At the unexpected response, Ignis blinked and his smile faded.  
“Sometimes you stress too much” Gladio said, at times looking at the man and at times away. “It feels like you feel forced to do everything, like you need to look after the entire world and fix it all by yourself” Ignis lowered the eyes slightly for a second during the pause. “And it’s then that you look older. Maybe it’s because you’re frowning, or this moody air around you, or maybe that you’re too…I don’t know…formal for a twenty-two year old, but it’s mostly when you’re quiet and doing things you feel forced to do that you look older.”  
Ignis stayed quiet, watching the beast not as if not understanding, rather as if surprised to hear all this. Like it had not crossed his head and Gladiolus was making him see something very obvious. The beast smiled at him only a moment and looked away again.  
“And then there’s these other times” he started, “when you’re relaxed, or maybe even happy, and that’s when you look younger, or just your age. Like, a few times when you’re eating, and when you’re reading…” Gladio lowered the head and felt his face burn, but that was something that Ignis could not notice. “…then, too. And whenever we’ve sat here, and you look at the distance, you kind of forget about everything and relax and I don’t know what goes through your head, but you look super calm and sometimes even happy. And you look as young as you’re supposed to be. Without that weight of the world on you. Just…relaxing.”

Ignis continued staring at him in silence. The beast offered a small shrug after some seconds into the silence, and looked away, as if suddenly awkward. The man, on his side, only looked at him, a bit surprised. It was like they had just taken a carpet off his feet in one movement, but without throwing him down; he felt startled and a bit confused. He was not sure of why, but it had felt like a compliment, or something alike. He started smiling a little, shyness making him stare slightly down.  
“See, you look young right now” Gladio told him. “I don’t know why you’ve got that habit of frowning. Why don’t you smile more often?”  
Ignis blinked at him, a bit more surprised than before. That felt like a compliment in some way, but it was also an advice. He could not help a bigger smile, but he grew even shier and tried to look slightly away.  
“Why should I be smiling the entire time?” Ignis asked back, attempting to be playful. “It gets tiring, you know. On the cheeks.”

Strangely for him, who had felt like he had failed miserably in his attempt to joke, Gladio did laugh. It was low, nothing like his dorky outbursts of laughter, but he had at least understood it had been a joke.  
“You don’t need a reason to smile” Gladio playfully argued back. “But you want one? I’ll compliment you; you’ve gotten much better at this, you know. Hunting, I mean.”  
Ignis could not help but feel like Gladio was changing the subject on purpose, like he had felt the conversation would derive in something that would make things awkward, but the man tried to not mind it much and flowed with whatever direction the beast wanted to take.  
“You think?” he asked.  
“Much better” Gladio agreed. “Your movements are flowing more, and you’ve done some jumps I hadn’t seen before. You’re darn acrobatic, you know? How’d you improve so much in so little time?”

“I haven’t improved, I only got back to my average hunting skills after letting them drop” Ignis said a bit cockily with his characteristic raise of an eyebrow. Gladio seemed to find either his words or his expression (or maybe both?) funny and he smiled like repressing a laugh, but said nothing. Ignis switched back to being serious. “I’ve retaken my normal training pace. I believe I also could have gained some of the weight I lost. All in all, I’ve been getting back in shape, so it is only natural so would my skills return.”  
“Right…” Gladio agreed, staring down and nodding. He felt embarrassed and that pinch of guilt on the mouth of his stomach; he had not wanted the happiness conversation to remind Ignis of his state away of his father, home, friends and as a prisoner, so he had switched to hunting, but it only worked to remind him that he had let Ignis starve for two week, and then did not allow him his three meals…

How could he have behaved that way towards Ignis? It sounded distant and like it had been the work of somebody else, but Gladio was conscious he had done it himself. Cage this beauty and angel of a man and let him starve, expecting him to die that way…why had he done it? _How_ did he even dare? Gladio did not mean to mean any harm to any creature (so long they did not mean any harm towards him or his loved ones), and Ignis had been so, so, so incredibly good with him, even _sweet_ , how could have Gladio once considered him an enemy to the point of doing such terrible things to him?  
Perhaps he really was turning into the monster that he was on the outside…

After some seconds into the silence, Ignis could sense that the beast’s mood had dropped drastically. It did not take a genius to know what had crossed his head, and Ignis regretted what he had said, or at least the way he had worded it. He did not blame Gladiolus, not too much; he _had_ been cruel with him, but it was all a big misunderstanding. Most of the time, it had been the beast who had been on control, not Gladio. Gladio’s real nature was harmless and kind, or so Ignis believed from the time that he had spent with him. So, in some way, it was not entirely Gladiolus’ fault, but that was something the beast refused to see. Ignis had tried to be careful on the care of this creature’s self-esteem, and this had not helped at all. Harmed caused, the only thing he could do was remember to be more careful in the future, try to not remind Gladiolus of that rough beginning they had, and change the subject.

“I believe I have rested enough” Ignis said softer than he had been talking before. “If that’s alright with you, we could head back to the castle now.”  
“That okay with you?” Gladio asked him like he had done the offer instead. Ignis nodded at him, trying to be conscious enough to make sure he was not frowning or making any facial expression that the beast could misunderstand. Gladio smiled slightly at him, but he still looked a bit sad. “Let’s go, then.”

Not liking the feeling that it had been his fault that the beast was down in the dumps now, Ignis tried to think of something else to do as they started standing up. Each took their weapon in a hand, and they still took a moment to shake some of the grass on their clothes (and a tail) off, before Ignis was able to come up with anything.  
“I am unaware if you did it on purpose” Ignis started telling him as Gladio finished brushing some grass off himself and as both started walking, “but you did not tell me your age.”  
“Oh, right” Gladio said. “Twenty-three.”  
“Twenty-three” Ignis repeated as if to memorize. There was a small pause while they walked. “And do you…for your species, is that old?”  
Fearing a bit that it had been yet another inappropriate comment, Ignis calmed a little when Gladio chuckled lowly in response.  
“I don’t age like dogs or anything” Gladio told him, and even though the man had thought at first that he was being bitter and rude out of being offended, it did not seem to be the case, and the beast was offering a tiny smile. 

“So you age similarly to humans?” Ignis asked, still curious. There was a thousand questions and things that he could not understand from Gladiolus, but he had kept it all to himself; now that one of the many subjects had been brought up he could not help his curiosity.  
“Exactly like humans” Gladio answered with a bigger smile, like there was something about the situation that amused him but Ignis could not quite catch it.  
“So you’re a young adult” Ignis stated with a small smile.  
“Like you” Gladio replied and, suddenly, both stopped at the same time and only stood side to side, looking at each other. The pause lingered, both smiled and kept eye contact, like the comments hid more in the subtext.

The beast turned to look ahead and retook his steps, with that playful gleam back in his eyes, and Ignis following close.  
“So I’m your senior. You better respect me, child.”  
Ignis half-sighed half-groaned in response, rolling the eyes. Gladio laughed again.  
“You’re just a year older” Ignis argued, “possibly not even a year, maybe it’s just months, when is your birthday?”  
“Why, you wanna get me a present?” Gladio continued teasing, and by a response Ignis looked at him unamused and once more rolled the eyes. The beast just hissed-laughed again. “I’m not going to risk you cheat. You tell me when’s your birthday first.”  
“How do I know _you_ won’t cheat?”  
“I asked first.”  
“You didn’t ask-” when Ignis realized they had gone back to the argument they had already had and that it would only repeat itself, he sighed and rolled the eyes again, but could not help a smile. “You are an ass.”

“Oh Six, first time you insult me without meaning it really” Gladio said with a laugh. “You didn’t mean it, right?”  
“Maybe I did” Ignis said teasingly and faking sass, which made the beast laugh again. The man smiled while listening to him; while he had to say it was a bit awkward (maybe slightly dorky), Gladio’s laugh was also contagious. He waited some moments and gave Gladio a suspicious but slightly playful look, like hesitating whether to speak or not, before looking slightly away. “February.”  
“Oh, so you turned 22 already for this year” Gladio noted at first serious before the playful smile returned. “Thing is, I too have turned 23 already” Ignis turned to look at him with a slight frown. “So, a year older, I said. Child.”  
“You’re exasperating, Gladiolus” Ignis sighed but could not add more to his comment when the beast laughed shortly but sincerely again, making it impossible for the man to resist a smile. “You’re doing it again. I told you the month of my birthday, but you didn’t tell me yours. You’re doing this on purpose.”  
“Okay, calm down” Gladio smiled. “April.”

“Oh, that was the month…” that Ignis arrived to the Citadel. But he kept the comment floating; Gladio understood as soon as the man started saying it, and there was no need or desire from neither of them finish it. They walked in silence for some seconds, awkward and a bit tense. It was like any matter they talked about always ended up returning to something about their rough beginning, and it was like talking about that rough beginning was a threat to bring down the long, big but awfully slow progress they had achieved so far, and both stopped as soon as they felt their toes tempting the dangerous zones. Ignis cleared his throat aloud. “…I guess you do are my senior. For a year, that is.”  
“Still your senior” Gladio answered, taking the hint and ignoring the previous tension. It was always better and easier to pretend the bad times never happened. “So you should start calling me Sir.”

By any answer, Ignis sighed and rolled the eyes. While Gladio laughed, he remembered about one of their new habits and, while too thought-through, it was a bit more natural than a week ago when Ignis raised a hand to plant it on Gladio’s arm to caress it for a moment, before he dared, for a first time, to push him in a playful gesture that he hoped the beast would not misunderstand.

Gladio did not, and the fact that Ignis could not move him a single inch made him laugh even more than the gesture itself.

\--

“Got everything you need?”  
“I am not sure…”

Gladio quietly chuckled, resting a hand on the counter and crossing an ankle in front of the other, in a relaxed position. He had gotten so used to Ignis in the kitchen that it did not even cross his head that he used to be stiff and tense the entire time when watching the man cook before, yet now he stood calmly, relaxed, and even aided him by bringing the ingredients that he requested from the pantries. Little Talcott had once tried to complain that Gladio had stolen his role, but Luna asked the little cup to stay quiet about it and let them be. She gave no explanations, and Talcott was too young to see her intentions, but he respected her so much he did not dare say anything about it; plus, he had to admit that the way both beast and man were quickly becoming real friends instead of only allies was a delight to watch, so little could he complain when watching them interact.

Ignis stood in front of the counter, with a couple ingredients scattered in front of him, and he watched them, attentive, like they were important maps of enemy territory and he was in charge of finding the one blind spot. Gladio stayed quiet and smiled while looking at him; he found it a little amusing, how hard Ignis focused on ingredients, like it was a life or death issue. It used to be annoying, but he could not remember why? It was honestly amusing to see. Not to say somewhat cute, but that last part he reserved to himself.  
He liked that look on him. A thoughtful expression that spoke of a hard-working man. Well, maybe he was a bit perfectionist, which was not much of a good thing, but he was hard-working and that was something that Gladio valued and respected greatly in others. It could be an unimportant matter like cooking, but it was precisely that what spoke of how much of a hardworking person he was, because if he focused so hard on something trivial, how much effort would he put in the big things?

Gladio continued staring at him until he noticed that he had been doing it for too long to be normal and forced himself to look slightly away, even when his eyes returned to the man. Ignis had that look on his face (‘Recipe Face’ Gladio had called it once) and even though he wanted to point it out he did not want to interrupt the man’s inspiration.  
It did not take long before Ignis’ expression suddenly transformed to a soft smile, his hand moved away of his chin, and he snapped his fingers, with that gleam in his eyes that Gladio had started to recognize as ‘creativity mode: on’.  
“That’s it” Ignis said lowly, still smiling.  
“That’s what?” Gladio asked lowly but with a growing smile.  
“I’ve come up with a new recipe.”

As a reply, Gladio snorted silently and his tail started shyly swinging side to side.  
“I can taste test for you” he offered with the raise of an eyebrow and a smile, fighting hard to control his tail, thankful that Ignis had not noticed, and not sure how to control the excitement. The man offered a smile back, looking up at him.  
“Taste test. An interesting choice of words” he said in a voice that sounded as if it was a compliment, clearly in a very subtle playful scheme like Gladio. “You could do that. The honor would be mine.”  
“Really?” Gladio asked and what little control he had gained over his tail was lost, and it started wriggling more excitedly. Still, he subtly shifted to make sure Ignis would not see. “How so?”  
“Well, my dear ally” Ignis started saying, looking away from the beast and focusing again on the ingredients scattered in front of him. He started taking his gloves off while speaking, “you happen to have…the best reactions I have ever witnessed when it comes to tasting my cooking.”

Gladio’s tail insisted on betraying him, and he held the now so-frequent-it-was-basically-daily internal secret battle against it.  
“That’s an easy thing to do” Gladio said while Ignis washed his hands. “I love food. You give me food, of course I’ll react” he smiled as if proud. “If it sucks, I’ll throw up, and if it’s good I’ll eat it. Easy!”  
“I will take the fact that you’ve never thrown up in front of me as a compliment, then” Ignis told him with a smile, drying his hands with a towel. “It’s more than just eating it, though. Only few people have tried my cooking, but no one has ever reacted as…sincerely eager as you do. It’s sort of…” Ignis had sounded and looked confident, until he reached that part. He paused and looked away as if realizing his mouth had been talking without his permission, took a moment to adjust his glasses, and continued much quieter. “…motivating.”

Gladio’s ears flapped up at the word, finding it interesting and a bit unexpected. He looked at Ignis for a few seconds as if asking him if he was serious, and, as if understanding the silent conversation, Ignis smiled at him with a mixture of shyness and certainty. The beast could not help a wide, proud smile, half-forgetting about the swing of his tail.  
“If keeping you motivated means you’ll continue to come up with stuff” Gladio said, “then I’m gonna do that.”  
“I’ll take that as another compliment” Ignis said after a low short laugh, turning his attention to the ingredients again and starting to work. “Thanks.”

Gladio did not reply to that, but he did not leave either. He stood next to Ignis, a hand on the counter and the tip of his tail still wriggling, watching the man’s every move. He watched as Ignis peeled a pair of carrots and started cutting them. Ignis had started to feel uncomfortable after he finished peeling the first carrot, and it only did but grow each second that the beast stood there in silence just looking. Ignis had subtly turned to look at him while he was cutting the carrot in slices, trying to see if Gladio was watching him and why, only to find the beast with those big curious eyes watching every movement. Ignis was not used to people staring at him or what he did, and it made him very, _very_ uncomfortable; he was as uncomfortable with someone looking at him while he did things as he was with physical interaction.

…but Gladio looked so, so sincerely, so honestly _interested…_  
The man started slowly smiling while subtly staring at the beast, hands slowly and mechanically still working on the carrot. When he sensed Gladio was about to turn to him, realizing Ignis was looking at him and that his hands had gotten much slower, Ignis quickly but as subtly looked away to pretend he had not been staring and continued working like he normally would, afraid that the beast would misunderstand the glance by a ‘Please, go away’. Which was not much of a lie; Ignis _was_ uncomfortable with having someone else looking at him working, but…he could not deny that to Gladio, not when he looked so curious and interested and so harmless. It was like a mistreated child who finally gained confidence enough to stare; Ignis did not have the heart to shoo him away or break that curiosity. 

Ignis contained a sigh in his chest and mentally cursed the beast; Ignis was giving up too much of his comfort for Gladio, and new things continued to pop up. But it was not a bad sensation; uncomfortable, yes, but he would have felt worse if he had asked Gladio to stop staring and to leave. How could he have done that for all those months? The poor thing, probably felt excluded…

So, instead, Ignis stayed quiet and did not complain about the beast’s presence while cooking, as Gladio, for the first time, stayed there the entire time to watch every movement, not doing any of this on purpose, with the tail swinging more happily with each step of the recipe that took them closer to the finished dish.

Gods, was he hungry. 

\--

It was strange to think about it…about not only the concept itself, but to think of how it had become a _routine_. If somebody had told Ignis he would be doing this as a daily thing, he would not have believed it, and would have sworn on his father’s name that he would never end up like that.  
Yet, there it was, as part of his new habits and routines.  
And it was not like it felt wrong or bad, on the opposite. But it was profoundly strange. The action itself was strange enough, to think he would do it daily was stranger, and to think he would _enjoy_ of it was merely unbelievable. Or would be unbelievable, was he not living through it. And even living through it, it had not stopped to be strange in the back of his head. Who would have thought he would hold such a…domestic life with whom had started as his worst enemy?

They kept the book on a table, left it there every night. It was unnecessary to leave it on a shelf, as they would always retake it; and Ignis thought about ‘practicality’, and guessed it would be useless to take the book with himself to his room to continue reading it on his own if sooner or later he would end up re-reading everything anyway; Gladio, on his side, did not want to risk taking it to his room when the man had the idea that he could not read, and on the other side it did not even cross his head.  
Why would he want to read it on his own if he could have it _this_ way instead?  
Hence, why it simply stayed on the table after the first read the prior week; it was only logical, the best place to keep it so they could retake their reading each night.

That night, Gladio was a bit earlier than Ignis. There was no usual winner of punctuality; sometimes Gladio was earlier, sometimes Ignis was earlier, and it had happened once that they were there at the same time. And it was not a matter of coincidence, whether to be earlier, later, or at the same time; Ignis was afraid of looking dumb and too uptight if he was too early, as people often judged him for that, and on the other hand he was afraid of making Gladiolus feel bad by being late, while Gladio was scared of looking too eager by being early and end up dumped by Ignis, as he was scared of offending him by being too late. The fact that they had not settled a specific time did little to help their insecurities and to make choices, and could only give them a range of time of arrival. It was usually around eight at night, both had noticed, but none dared specify eight as the hour to meet in the library, both in the fear of making the other feel compromised, so they only attended their informally formal every day library ‘dates’. 

That night, it was not long while Gladio stood there calmly, tail sometimes moving slightly in expectation (or nerves) to a side or the other at random times, before he turned when he heard the doors opening. He smiled widely when he saw the man appearing through the door, looking small in comparison of it, in his always quiet way. Ignis closed the door softly before he calmly looked up at him, and said nothing, offering only a smile. The beast smiled back and started heading to their usual table, not saying anything either.  
“My apologies if I am too late” Ignis said finally when they were closer, reaching for a chair and pulling from it. He sighed softly, and Gladio thought it rude to sit before Ignis would so he waited. “I was with Noct.”

Gladio chuckled as response. Ignis started sitting down, and the beast felt free to do as him as well.  
“Little birthday boy” Gladio said. “He looks happy like I haven’t seen him in ages. Did you do something?”  
“Nothing in particular” Ignis said. “He’s been hanging around me quite a lot of time at random times of the day, and he always seems happy even if we’re not really doing anything. Perhaps he’s just excited about the painting Prompto gave him.”  
_Or maybe it’s how fond he is of you even when he tries to pretend he’s not._  
“I guess” Gladio sighed. “Whatever it is, it makes me happy to see him be happy on his birthday. Tiny clock deserves that joy.”  
“Makes me glad to see him as radiant, as well” Ignis agreed, a hand lying on top of the book, and his other hand coming to rest on top of the first. Gladio looked at it distractedly before looking at Ignis again. “Never thought I’d feel so much affection for a clock.”

“He’s absolutely charmless” Gladio said, resting an elbow on the table and placing the side of his head on his hand. “But he’s so charmless, it’s charming.”  
By a response, Ignis laughed shortly and quietly, doing his usual gesture of hiding the mouth slightly behind a hand with the excuse of scratching the tip of his nose. He said nothing, but the little laugh sounded like an agreement. The beast smiled, watching him, and adoring the way he smiled and half-laughed. He remembered how upset Ignis had been after the first time a laugh escaped him in front of Gladio, angered to be seen like that, but now Ignis was not complaining, not even realizing this used to not be normal. The idea of Ignis adapting to a new life in which frowning was not his usual face and where, even if timidly and reserved, he felt _free_ to laugh in front of Gladio…it felt like a warm little flame. It was a very pretty concept, and it felt even prettier. 

He liked that. That Ignis was happy.

“Well” Ignis interrupted his thoughts, soft smile still present, and hands pulling the book closer, “I shall check up on Noctis later. Right now, we can retake where we left it yesterday. Yes?”  
“Yeah” Gladio said maybe a bit too eagerly, and forced himself to show less excitement than the one he was feeling. He had moved the head up from his hand and crossed both arms on the table. “It’s getting very interesting, and I’m understanding really well. That means you’re excellent at reading aloud, y’know?”  
“I thank the compliment” Ignis said, back to his shy sort of attitude. “I’m glad to know you’ve been enjoying. If you have questions, you can stop me to ask in any moment, aright?”  
“Yeah” Gladio said more lowly but with a wider smile, resting the chin on his arms like usual. 

The beast had said nothing, but he really enjoyed the fact of sitting next to Ignis. The man would always sit across and a couple chairs away of him whenever they had lunch or dinner together, so to be sat right next to him was _wonderful_. He felt…accepted. He felt a little less disgusting. A little more of an equal to Ignis. And the fact that Ignis had never once complained made it even better. Sitting right next to him did not allow him to look much at Ignis without having to turn, which would be awkward after some seconds, and he felt a little distant by the fact of not facing him, but he was content enough with just sitting next to him.  
“Alright” Ignis said as he opened the book where the mark was. “Here we left it.”

Gladio said nothing, like usual during their now daily nocturnal reading prior to dinner. He only nodded as if telling Ignis it was fine, and stayed as quiet as always, chin on crossed arms on the table, not looking in the man’s direction for the latter’s comfort.  
It had been terribly, terribly difficult and hard to do the first time, but a week into it, Ignis had managed to get used enough to start reading without feeling at the edge of combusting. It was still awkward and he had lots of shyness problems, but he was building up his own confidence with each day that he read for the beast.

He held the book that they had started a week ago, yet not finished and still midways, and sighed quietly before he started.  
“Chapter 7” Ignis read, “The Night sky and Art.”

Ah, that was the chapter that talked about the influence of the night sky on art all throughout the eras, from the early paintings in caves and through the centuries to modern times. That was Gladio’s favorite chapter, or at least the one that he enjoyed the most to read through. It had a very wonderful flow of words and ideas, and it did not put him to stop and philosophy as deeply as with the first chapters, which was good, but so was a flowing read. Yet, that was something he could not show, that he already knew this chapter. He had no way to explain that. So, like usual when it came to books, he pretended he had no idea what it went on about, for the selfish if harmless want to have Ignis reading it aloud for him.

Ignis started reading much more naturally than he had done it that first day, and Gladio noticed his voice was not as terribly quiet this time. Like many things, even there was some progress. Ignis had gained a little more confidence into his nocturnal reading, and it was noticeable in the color of his voice. If Ignis’ voice was a delight on its own, hearing it read was a wonder, a delight to listen to, almost musical. To hear it read with more confidence than before only did but highlight that beauty, and, hence, it made Gladio’s love for it grow.  
As the man’s voice travelled across the words, Gladio could not help a wide smile, and he closed the eyes. This was definitely incredible, and he could definitely get used to it, like he had thought the first night into this. It was magical. 

After a couple of paragraphs, Ignis moved a hand up and he carefully laid it on the beast’s back. At first, Gladio’s body reacted with a little flinch and an ear that flapped, but he stayed quiet, in silence, and said nothing. Ignis stopped reading for only a moment to look at him and to move the hand until it found the beast’s head, and he started caressing his hair. Ignis smiled slightly while watching his hand travel on top of the fur and sometimes disappearing into or behind it. Gladio had a wonderful dark brown mane that Ignis would never tire to touch and stroke. The beast looked frightening, true, but the fur was an exquisite sample of softness. If there was a measurer of softness, Gladio’s fur could probably be a notch above silk. Ignis had been wary of this at first; he was very much touch averse with other humans, let alone a baby-Garula behemoth-like beast, Gladio was not precisely a pretty sight, and Ignis had started touching him forcefully.

But it was starting to…not feel so bad. It was still strange, it still took Ignis some effort, and he was still insecure about it, but at least he was starting to enjoy. Gladio was a beast and a frightening sight, but now that Ignis was in physical contact with him, he discovered he too had some certain kind of beauty; he was covered in fur, but he was never, never dirty. He had a silky hair and fur, and Ignis enjoyed greatly of it. True, he had been incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of touching him, but the fact that Gladio was incredibly soft, so warm, and very clean made it a million times easier, and even enjoyable.

Ignis curled and uncurled the fingers to caress Gladio’s fur on his head, feeling the fingertips rub slightly on the skin. The beast did shiver at the first contact, but he only seemed to need to shift a little in his seat before he was back to staying still and be relaxed, like usual. This gave Ignis confidence to not stop, and he continued to caress with a hand, before he turned his attention to the book once again, and retook the reading.

And that was the routine; mornings separated, random and timid encounters and conversations here and there across it, lunch, a couple more of those shy interactions maybe, and then the casual, informally formal meeting at the library at eight (more or less); sit down at the same table, take the same book, open it where they left it. Gladio sitting next to Ignis, resting the chin on the arms, not glancing in the human’s direction. Ignis reading for him, aloud. Gladio’s tail happily and calmly swinging, going unseen by the human as he was occupied in the words and pages. A human hand caressing through beastly fur and hair, until the beast would kindly ask him to stop. Reading until finishing a chapter. Close the book, stop the tail before the human looked behind, Thank You, a couple smiles. Leave to the kitchen, help gather things from the pantries, cook. Sit more or less together, at least at the same table, and have dinner together. Some annoying nagging about his eating manners, that had been decreasing little by little. Goodnight, thank you, rest well, sleep tight. Smiles. And then the separation at the same stairs landing of every time.

It was always the same now.  
And Gladio had never before in his life _loved_ routine so much.

Eyes closed, feeling tired after the day of hunting, and in absolute delight and contentment, Gladio contained a big and long sigh in his chest, and got occupied painting with imaginary ink in his mental paper every word and every letter that Ignis read, adoring not the words he was listening, rather the voice that was playing them.

After the wrecking day, and adoring Ignis’ voice with such sincerity, the musicality of it, adding the peaceful and quiet, soothing air of the library, the space where Gladio felt physically and emotionally the safest, and Ignis caressing his hair and scalp in a way that made it oh so agonizingly relaxing, so soothing, so calming, it was only a matter of time before he started dozing off into sleep. He realized it too late; he had tried to lift the head to sit in an upright position to fight sleep off, but by the time he noticed and wanted to try that he was already so sleepy that he could not pull his head up, nor open the eyes. He was conscious of it and missed a couple of the sentences of the book in his paranoia of not wanting to fall asleep, because what kind of sinner stops listening to the voice of an angel like it’s nothing? 

But Gladio could not help it. Ignis’ voice could do wonders; accidentally cast a sleeping spell was part of them.  
Ignis wasn’t sure how much time it was, lacking of the presence of the birthday clock, but he calculated about half an hour since he started reading before he heard the first snore. It was not a loud behemoth noise, but it was definitely loud enough to notice it. Ignis stopped as soon as the little snore sounded, and he looked at the beast; the man had been so into his reading that he had not noticed when Gladio first fell asleep. He guessed it was obvious, with the way he untensed much more than usual, and the lack of smile on his face.

The man, at first, was not sure how to take it or what to do. It was unexpected and new; Gladio had never fallen asleep in his presence, not counting the events of the petal, let alone during their nocturnal reading. Ignis stared at him in shock for some moments, hearing a second snore after a while, before he looked around as if seeking advice. Lunafreya and Iris were present, but little did they offer as help. Ignis only stayed sat there and looked at Gladiolus again. He tried poking him to see if he was kidding, or to wake him up, but Gladio did not respond. The beast had the arms resting on the table, and the side of the head resting on them. His expression was calm, he had the mouth slightly open, and his breath was calm and heavy. He snored much more softly than Ignis could have expected from him. And he certainly looked…so harmless…

After a few moments of panic not knowing what to do, Ignis tried to poke him again, this time on the nose. Any response he got was the slight flap of an ear, but Gladio continued to sleep profoundly. Ignis only spent some moments into the panic, before he realized he was panicking for something that had no reasons to put him in so much distress, and his expression started turning from a concerning frown to a soft smile. He had stressed so much into the ‘What do I do?’ that it took him a moment to understand the answers was ‘Nothing’; nothing was happening, so there was nothing to fix or to do. It was only…the beast sleeping. Ignis reminded himself that not everything that happened needed to be fixed. He remembered about the beast’s words about stressing too much for unnecessary things that Ignis ‘felt forced to fix by himself’, when that was not necessary.

So he did as the beast advised him earlier that day, and, instead of worrying and thinking he had to do something about it, he only relaxed on his seat, and smiled. 

He thought, for a moment, about taking the book to his room and retake the reading…but he did not have the heart to read without Gladio, and even though he tried, he did not have the heart to leave the library while the beast slept. What if he woke up and Ignis was not there? Ignis wasn’t worried Gladio would take it as an insult; he was afraid it would make him sad, or feel abandoned, whether consciously or not.

So, instead, Ignis grabbed another nearby book, sat next to Gladio again, and started reading, waiting for the beast to wake up for dinner, and not noticing the way his hand, almost by itself, moved up to continue caressing the beast’s hair carefully and softly.

Gladio could not feel it. He was dead asleep, peacefully like he had not been able to sleep in half a decade, dreaming of sunsets, clocks, the hand of an angel petting him, and the sweet smile of the prince and brother who, that day, had celebrated his 21st birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, do feel free to let me know what you think! 
> 
> Comments will let me know if I'm going too slow, or can simply motivate me to work faster on this.
> 
> Like always, I'm eternally grateful you're still following the story despite its huge horrible size and the so freaking agonizingly slow pace. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	24. The Happiest Tail of Eos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't apologize for the title of this chapter, I had nothing else to call this lmao
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry again for taking so long! Tumblr has kept me busy OTL
> 
> But I hope you enjoy!

If something defined Ignis, that was that he was _always_ doing something.

He could not stand still; cleaning rooms like madness, spending hours and hours fixing the gardens or rooms, cooking, exploring around, and even when he was “not doing anything”, he _was_ doing something; reading, chatting with any of his friends, walking around. And when he did take moments to do “nothing”, he was still doing something; whenever he sat at the balcony or the gardens, even when he got to sit outside when Gladio took him hunting, his head was on a constant run, thoughts flew everywhere, his thoughts traveled faster than the words with which he could build them. It was absolute madness. 

But even that was changing. It was the slowest of changes, and only Noctis and Prompto had paid attention enough to those “unimportant” details, as they were who spent the nights with the human, Noctis daily and Prompto visiting every now and then and, hence, witnessed him going to bed and waking up. Not to say they were also there across the day, constantly checking up on him. Eventually, little by little, Ignis was learning to stay still for at least a few minutes. He was learning to not overstress or start overworking on everything; the man was a nerve wreck enough. But he was slowly and eventually learning to relax. 

…though he still sometimes failed to stay still.

One morning, Gladio had woken up to no noise nearby. It was not rare, as the castle was very big and the odds to stumble upon Ignis were rare (with the exception, of course, of the library, the kitchen, and the sixth floor on the wing where Ignis’ room was, where the chances of encounter increased). Like usual, he took breakfast on his own, found Ignis’ clean dish drying, and he went on to do his own daily routines. Everything had been going like usual and, after a while, Gladio started pacing around the castle. Even though he was not going to admit anything (partly not even to himself), he was pacing around with the wish to hear any noises, to find the signs of where Ignis was. Gladio paced around almost the entire castle (the main building, at least) only to hear and see no signs of the human anywhere. 

He still continued walking and looking around in that subtle search for the man, and even dared to ask Iris if he had seen him or if she knew where he was, before he remembered about the gardens and headed outside. Even there, he looked around and walked for a bit hearing no signs of him. Sometimes he heard noises, but when he went to search, he found either a rack or a shovel pacing around or doing whatever job they could, Ignis’ mare still asleep, or Nyx pacing around with that funny waddle that said he kept the guard low and was bored. But it was finding Nyx what told him that Ignis had to be around the gardens, somewhere, as the Glaive had become his usual guard for anytime Ignis wanted to go outside. Gladio found it a bit silly, that Nyx was still keeping watch on him; sure, it had been Gladio himself who requested it, but…well, he now doubted that Ignis had any desire to escape. He assumed Nyx was either too naïve and took orders too strictly, or this was just his excuse to get to hang with the man for a bit, even if from afar. 

He could not blame him; Ignis could be introvert and terribly shy in his own “I pretend I’m not shy” way, but he sweated trust and care. It was only natural people felt terribly fond of him, even without having ever shared a word with him. A strange form of charm, Gladio thought, where he could just stand there doing nothing, and even be awkward, and catch people’s heart without even trying. More than him catching hearts, it was like, in his presence, one _wanted_ to give it to him. 

It took Gladio a couple minutes pacing around the gardens before he heard noises nearby. He slowed down and moved the ears up in a subconscious sign of paying attention. There were rustles from somewhere nearby him, but he could not quite catch where they came from. He slowed down when the rustles were far too close to him but Ignis was nowhere in sight, which made no sense. Paying attention, Gladio started walking around the huge bush at his side, assuming maybe Ignis was on the other side and that’s why he sounded so close but was nowhere in sight. Gladio walked around it until he noticed he had walked a full circle and half, with still no signs of Ignis, but the rustles continued, loud, too loud. It made no sense-

Right as he was starting to get confused, he contained a little gasp of surprise and lowered lightly the head when he felt something landing on his right horn and stayed stuck there. He tried to look up at it before he remembered that was stupid (as the horn moved with the rest of his head), so he moved a hand up to remove the thing that was there. He struggled a bit to get it off himself and looked at it; it was a piece of climbing plant.  
Before he could understand, more plants fell on him, smacking him on the head. And before he could say something, more and more ropes of climbing plant landed on him, covering him, as if attempting to hide him under them so he could pass as a second, smaller bush. The plants started falling from nowhere on him, covering his head, getting tangled on his horns, landing on his shoulders and arms.

“H-hey!” he finally was able to call after a moment. “What the hell!?”  
He heard a tiny and subtle ‘Hm?’ from somewhere. Instead of saying anything else, Gladio continued taking all the plants off himself, struggling with some and sometimes breaking them because it was easier, if less civilized.   
It took only a moment before he heard a little gasp and he looked up in the direction of the noise.  
Ah. So he was not around the giant bush, he was _on top_ of it, eh?  
Ignis’ head poked from above the big bush, some feet from above Gladio’s head, looking down at him with an expression that was between surprised and terrified in a silly and not very serious way.   
“G-Gladio!”

The beast still continued taking some plants off himself before looking up again.  
“Ignis?” he called. “What the heck are you doing up there?”  
“My apologies” Ignis said and moved lightly in his place, the leaves rustling under his hands. “I…I hadn’t noticed you were standing there. I didn’t mean-”  
“Leave it” Gladio said with a smile, letting more plants fall off him to the ground. Ignis stayed tense for a moment, but soon enough calmed down and replied to the smile with one of his own, if only quite embarrassed. “I had no idea you were up there. What are you doing?”   
“Ah…well…” Ignis started, getting a little awkward and moving a bit nervously, using a hand to adjust his glasses on their place. “I remembered you told me that underneath all these plants an entire kiosk hides” Gladio blinked and looked at the bush; ah, yes…he had forgotten for a minute, as focused as he was in searching for Ignis, to pay attention and notice that this was the one giant bush. “So I assumed that it would be good to take all the plants off it.”

Gladio could not help a little and low laugh, staring at one of the plants on his hand.  
“You’re working pretty hard in the gardens, aren’t you?” Gladio asked him and waited for no answer before looking up and speaking again. “You’re aware Fall is coming anyway in a week, aren’t you?”  
 _And besides the leaves falling, you notice you’re not going to stay here forever to keep looking after the gardens, so all the work will be in vain, anyway?_  
“Yes, I am” was all that the human replied before disappearing again behind the edge of the roof. The rustles continued, and Gladio saw some plants falling from another side so they would not hit him. The beast chuckled lowly again.   
“So then why are you working so hard in the gardens?” Gladio asked him and tried to find some spot to use to climb, but thought twice and preferred to stay down there; maybe Ignis didn’t want company…  
“It’s a satisfactory entertainment” Ignis replied from his spot, voice mixing with the subtle grunts of effort from pulling the plants. 

Gladio smiled a little and stared down for a moment, considering again to climb up. He hesitated greatly, had internal discussions with himself, and tried to make out whether he would be doing wrong and would make Ignis feel uncomfortable, or if it did not really matter too much. Lately, while he had not noticed, he had been hesitating less about what to say, but still had his doubts and second thoughts when it came to actions. He spent a bit of an awkward while just standing there not sure of what to do or if it was better to only say goodbye and try to wait for a better moment for interaction. Hearing Ignis’ little grunts and hisses of effort, however, gave him a trigger to start conversation again.  
“You know, at this pace, it’s going to take you quite a while” Gladio said and cut one of the plants that still hung from him to throw it down. “You’re doing it bare handed?”  
“I actually do have a knife here, but…” Ignis stood up, a hand to the waist as he looked at nowhere in the distance. “…it _is_ taking quite a while.”

Gladio stayed quiet. He saw one of the plants and toyed shyly with it in his hands. He saw Ignis move a little on the roof of the hidden kiosk and go back down to start cutting and pulling, the grunting and hissing of effort back. While being unwatched, Gladio ran one of his claws onto the plant; he watched it easily split open and be cut in half like it was but butter. He considered it immediately, but hesitated and stayed quiet; he could help, make it much easier. But, on a side, he would make work much faster, and this was one of the things that kept Ignis entertained, so he probably wouldn’t be grateful if he helped him finish too soon. And, mostly, he highly doubted that Ignis wanted his company. It was more than clear that Ignis had accepted it, and he did not seem uncomfortable when they interacted…uhm, not too much, that is. But accepting the interaction to _wanting_ it…it was different.

Besides, Ignis already spent a lot of time with him, at least much more to what Gladio had expected anyone would like to spend with him. Ignis had lunch and dinner with him everyday, and he always spent at least an hour in the library with him. That was like…three hours a day! It was unbelievable, Gladio felt. Three full hours, or four perhaps, of the human dedicating some of his time for him, despite how ugly he was. Gladio hoped that, if he could do nothing about his looks, at least he did not smell. He had always tried to keep a good hygiene…mostly…for the past three out of five years, at least, but he had secretly started to dedicate more time to it ever since Ignis asked him to “communicate”. He was frightening as he was and Ignis was already uncomfortable enough, the least he could do was to try and make it less worse. It was the less he could do as a secret thanks to Ignis for being with him for so long. Long, at least, as compared to what Gladio could have first expected…

A slightly louder growl from the human brought him back from his thoughts and he looked up again. From that angle, as close as he was to the kiosk, he could not see him too well unless Ignis poked the head from his position on the roof, so he stepped back a little, the plants still in his hand. He still hesitated awkwardly a little, and decided that it was best to say goodbye; Ignis already dedicated so much of his time for Gladio, most surely out of pity, so the beast did not want to be a bother…  
Right as he started opening the mouth to say goodbye, Ignis let go of a plant and stood back up on his feet.  
“I refuse to take so long in something so simple” he said in that firm and sort of nagging voice that Gladio had started to find hilarious. He saw the man cross the arms (being careful with the knife in one of his hands) and sighed. He stayed still some moments before he looked down and found the beast standing there as if he was waiting for anything to happen. “Did you cut that yourself?”

“Wha-“ Gladio started questioning in a murmur, not catching it, before he looked down at his hands and found the piece of plant he had cut earlier. He felt his stomach tickle from the inside and he grew a bit nervous, and for a moment he internally discussed with himself if he had to lie or not. “Oh, uhm…yeah, I guess” Gladio shrugged and looked away as he talked, face burning under all the brown fur of it.   
“Great” Ignis said before the beast could add anything. “Then you will be great help.”  
Gladio just gave him a sort of confused glace that almost seemed to ask ‘Are you sure? Did you breathe too much pollen?’   
“That is” Ignis continued, “only if I’m not bothering. I…should have asked instead of just bossing you around. My apologies.”

Gladio’s eyebrows shot up to almost mid-forehead; well, that was new. Ignis apologizing for bossing around. Or, better said, what was new was that Ignis _noticed_ he had taken that ordering attitude.   
“Ignis Scientia admitting he’s bossing around” Gladio said with a slight tilt of the head, dropping the plants in his hands. “That’s new.”  
For a moment, he hoped he had not gone too far in what he was saying. Ignis rolled the eyes (he could see it even from the distance in between), before just flicking a wrist.  
“Are you going to help me or not?”

Gladio laughed lowly and started approaching the kiosk. It made him happy, that the arguments they had felt like this; so…maybe it was not the correct word and he did not know if Ignis would agree on it, but they felt so _friendly_. It felt like when he “argued” with Noctis or even Iris; familiar, and even a strange form of bonding.   
“What do I do, Mister Climbing Plant?” he asked, stopped for a second realizing what he had done, and sighed. “I’m sorry. No more nicknames, we said.”  
“That’s quite alright” Ignis said as if it was absolutely nothing, and the beast just looked up at him, tilting the head, puzzled; Ignis used to get _so very_ fired up about nicknames…it was a bit rare to see him just shrug it off as easily. But not like Gladio would complain. “Are you sure you- I did…sound rather bossy, and I made it sound more like an order than an invitation, Gladio, and I’m…” the human moved down to his knees so he was lower on the roof where he was standing and, hence, closer to the beast. “I only do not mean to be taking you from other duties or activities. I can handle this on my own if you’ve got other stuff to-”

“No, no” Gladio shook the head, growing a little awkward too as if mirroring the human. “I mean- yes- not like-“ he sighed shortly to start over. “I mean, I’ve got nothing to do right now, s-so there’s no problem about me, if that’s the concern, but uh…” he looked away and scratched the back of his neck during the pause. “…I’m not…sure that you want me to help at all, as in…is…is that not a…problem?”  
“Why would it be?” Ignis asked him, raising an eyebrow. “If it would be a problem, I wouldn’t have asked you for it in the first place.”  
“You didn’t ask me as much as you ordered me, you know” Gladio said trying to be playful, and somewhat succeeding. He saw Ignis smile and look away, shaking the head as if trying to pretend he was angry but could not help the smile. Motivated by it, Gladio got closer again until he was next to the kiosk-bush, and started climbing it. “Alright. Gonna help you with this.”

 

Prompto and Noctis were sat on a windowsill of the low level, watching the outside. They had a very clear view of the giant bush that was really a kiosk hidden under climbing plants and, with it, of both beast and man as well. They were even close enough to hear most of what they were saying. The candelabra and the clock sat in silence, hearing the human ask something, and soon enough seeing Gladio’s head and hands appear at the edge of the roof, holding to it.  
“You’re going to fall!”   
“Well, make up your mind, do you want my help or not?”  
“I did ask you for help but I never said it was necessary that you climbed up here as well.”  
There was a laugh from the beast.  
“Well, excuse me, I’ll go back down-“  
“But I didn’t tell you to go away!”  
“Ignis, can you please stop confusing me? You’re doing this on purpose, you want to argue-“  
“Why would I want to argue?”  
“See, you’re arguing right now. Stop that and beh-“  
“Glad-! See, I told you you were going to fall- come up here!”  
“I didn’t _fall_ , I’m just- be careful with my claws, no, stop that; look, I’ll do it myself, okay?”  
“It’s not like I’m blind and will stab myself accidentally with your nails, stop being so stubborn and- Gladio-!“  
There was a loud thud, and the sound of Ignis’ laughter.  
“See, I _told_ you!”

 

From the windowsill where they sat, Noctis laughed mostly silently and Prompto giggled.  
“Wanna bet how long it takes before Specs falls too?” Prompto asked his friend, nudging him lightly.   
“Specs’ not going to fall” Noctis argued back. “The idiot there is Gladio.”  
“But it’s the irony of life” Prompto said. They watched as the beast re-appeared from the edge of the roof, the fur of his head covered in some leaves, and they watched him refuse help from the human while pulling himself onto the roof no troubles; Ignis started saying something about being careful and about not knowing how resistant the roof was (because “who knows how many centuries it has gone without maintenance!”) and hence about the probabilities of Gladio’s weight breaking it, and both bursting into silly and (thankfully) non-serious arguments. “Ignis told him he was going to fall and then laughed when Gladio fell, so it’s just a rule of the irony of life that Ignis is going to fall at some point too.”

“Hm…” Noctis hesitated for a relatively long pause, in which the two friends watched beast and human being stupid together before coming to a peaceful talk that the furniture friends could not hear from their spot; they could only see Ignis point at things, Gladio probably asking things, which had to mean both were finally organizing what to do and how to do it. “Nah, man. Specs’ not going to fall.”  
“What do you have to bet, Noct-O-Clock?” Prompto asked him, excited.   
“Hm…” the clock thought for a moment before turning to smirk at his friend. “I found two matchsticks the other day, color blue.”  
“I have…” Prompto started looking around only to find nothing on the windowsill where they sat. As he was moving, some of the wax of his hand fell off and froze. “I’m going to make you a snowman made of wax!”  
“Wouldn’t that be a wax-man?”  
“Do we have a deal?”

Noctis turned again to look at man and beast. Gladio was down on his ankles using the claw of his index like it was a knife to cut some plant ropes here and there. Ignis stood nearby just watching him and saying something from time to time.  
“Hm…” the clock smiled again at his friend. “Deal.”  
Said that, both furniture friends proceeded to sit there mostly in silence, like they were watching a play and not two people interact. The coat rack Crowe passed by and was going to ask what they were so attentive to, but when she saw man and beast through the window, she did not question them and could not blame them; watching Gladio and Ignis interact was either frightening for real, or absolute comedy brought to life. She even felt tempted to stay and watch, but decided to not make a bad trio with the famous dynamic duo, and left. To look for another window, that is.

 

Out in the gardens, Ignis sent Gladio back to the ground again. Luckily, this time the beast did not fall, even though he insisted on refusing to get any of Ignis’ help. The man knew that his hand was much smaller in comparison and it was silly to think that he could offer much help (as he could not stand most of Gladio’s weight), but a little support was always better than nothing. Still, the beast was stubborn and refused the help.   
Once he was back on the ground, he started cutting ropes here and there; Ignis continued with the job on top of the roof, untying the knots that were formed, the task having become much simpler since Gladio helped to cut a few strategic points here and there. Gladio had suggested he could just cut everything, but Ignis said that that would be more troubles to clean afterwards, so the less pieces there were, the better. Gladio mentally admitted that he would not have had patience enough to know where exactly to cut, but Ignis pointed at it like it was the most obvious of things. The man was smart. It was a bit sad he applied that strategist-like mind to things like gardening, not because it was bad or humiliating, but Gladio often thought that maybe if Ignis had been born on the previous generation and maybe if he had been among royalty, maybe they would have stood a better chance against Niflheim…

But the “What If”s were useless now; all that they had was the present, and on the other hand Gladio was satisfied and content that Ignis had not been born a generation earlier and under different circumstances. He would have been stressed all his life, he would have lived through even more years into the war, he probably would have had a much more stressful and hard life. Not to say that if things had gone the same way either way and the treaty happened as it did, Ignis would have probably died along most of the Council that day.  
And, even though this was entirely selfish, Gladio also noted that if Ignis had been born in the previous generation and under different circumstances, then they probably wouldn’t be friends. 

He continued to cut some ropes and tried to untie as Ignis suggested. Sometimes, he held conversation with the man; it was mostly orders and suggestions, “Please, cut here” every now and then, “How are you doing down/up there?” sometimes, and only counted jokes here and there, most which came from Gladio as harmless-sarcastic questions, and in the form of sassy comebacks from Ignis. Most jokes were still timid, and half of the time was spent in silence, but Gladio liked it. He could sit there in absolute silence with Ignis for hours and still be happy, because being in his presence made him feel accepted, and that was more than enough. He sometimes liked to be selfish and think that he did not even care if Ignis was comfortable or not; if he sat there in silence with him, even if Ignis was uncomfortable, he was _there_ , and that was what Gladio liked most. 

So the silence he truly did not mind, and the non-selfish part of him hoped that so wouldn’t Ignis. He assumed that as forwards as the man showed to be, he would shamelessly tell Gladio if he grew too uncomfortable, even if subtly. Like he did the first time he let him in the library, and stood there with a very expressive look and did not move until Gladio left the room.  
…had that really happened? Because Ignis had already spent two weeks sharing, at _least_ , a daily hour with him in the library. Had he really not been comfortable the first time they stood there together?  
Had he…really, _sincerely_ grown… comfortable in his presence?  
The idea made Gladio’s heart flutter and he felt it become warmer. For a moment he feared he would break out running out of mere excitement and the energy it filled him with. He stopped working and was glad that Ignis was distracted and out of sight range, and he pressed himself a little closer to the kiosk-bush to smile widely, fists tightening on the plants he was holding. He even let his tail happily wriggle some moments before he remembered that Ignis could look down in any moment, so he forced it to stop, breathed in to calm himself, and continued working, keeping his joy in secret.

“How is it going down there?” Ignis called after some more working. Gladio thought of a vulgar joke about peeing and laughed lowly to himself, but he felt like Ignis probably wouldn’t appreciate that sort of jokes. Maybe he would, but Gladio did not want to risk finding out.   
“Good” he said with a little grunt as he pulled some ropes and let them fall nearby his feet. “What about up there?”   
“I think I’m making a good progress” Ignis replied in his always overly formal way, but it was something that Gladio had gotten used to, and that he even liked. “Would you mind giving me a hand?”  
“On my way-”  
“No, no, you’re useful down there where you are” Ignis said while gesturing. “I need you to pull the vines to drop what we’ve managed to cut.”  
“Am I not going to throw you down?”  
“Not so long I don’t step on the ones you’re going to pull.”

After that, Ignis proceeded to instruct him and Gladio merely followed his orders. 

 

From the window, Prompto and Noctis watched. When Gladio pulled the first bunch of plants, Prompto nudged his friend again as if telling him to pay attention, excited. Both watched Ignis point, Gladio get fistfuls of vines to pull from them, the plants falling down, and Ignis staying in his spot. He stumbled only a few times, all of which Prompto watched with absolute attention, but he never fell down. They spent a while cutting and pulling from the plants; sometimes, when one got stuck, Ignis untied the knot for Gladio to pull again. They continued and, little by little, the faded black and rusty red colors underneath started appearing, the metal and wood coming shyly from underneath and behind the leaves.

For a moment, both Prompto and Noctis got distracted from their new hobby of watching man and beast interact and leaned forwards as if to get a better look of what they were seeing. The pavilion, decoration more than anything, often used in some weddings for the people of the Citadel back in the days, was reappearing after years of being hidden under plants. They had watched some of Ignis’ progress in the gardens, had seen things like symbols and pots come from under leaves and grass, but never something this big. To Noctis, it brought back some memories of it, and while he had no particular or personal tale about it, the little kiosk was something he had grown up with, so seeing it reappear was both joyful and sort of nostalgic. Not to say that it had been a particularly special spot for king Regis, so in some way it did bring back some memories…

 

Gladio, too, was amazed in his own way seeing as the building reappeared. How easy it had been; he had spent only about half an hour cutting and untying, only half an hour, and the kiosk was appearing right in front of him. Half an hour of the five _years_ since the curse; half an hour he could not dedicate to it himself; half an hour that was only possible after four months of a stranger’s stay in the castle.   
It was amazing; he had needed to wait five years, with four crazy months in among, and a foreigner to the castle to spend only thirty minutes into doing something that was bringing back so many memories and that, for some reason, felt incredibly good. It was like cleaning the gardens was cleaning a tiny part of his heart as well, like bringing back the good old days. 

He continued to pull here and there. He was so excited and into his own thoughts and memories that he did not listen much to Ignis’ instructions and only pulled wherever he could, and he once or twice did make Ignis stumble. Once, Ignis did fall on his buttocks, but it was on the roof itself so it did not count in the bet of the clock and the candelabra that watched from a windowsill.   
And so, after a couple minutes getting rid of most of the climbing plants, Gladio took a step backwards and stood still, watching the kiosk. There were still multiple plants hanging around it, some wrapped around the metal bars, but it was finally for the eye to meet; there where a giant bush had been now stood a tall but small kiosk with only a few climbing plants on it. 

Gladio took some more steps back without taking the eyes off the little pavilion. A smile started growing on him despite the slightly surprised stare; it was a weird feeling. More than nostalgic, it was sort of exciting. It was like noticing the old days, so happy and calm, _had_ existed. It had its bit of sadness, but Gladio felt mostly content of seeing it again after so many years of forgetting about it and pretending it did not exist.   
It was nothing particularly special to him; he had his own special spots in the buildings and in the gardens, but the kiosk was not one of them. At least, not for a personal-personal reason.   
But it reminded him a lot of his dad; Clarus Amicitia had stood here multiple times, most of which were always at the side of king Regis…and it had been a special spot for both of them.  
And, special for his dad, it was somewhat special for Gladio too. His dad had been both the happiest and the saddest man in that kiosk, but in both cases he had loved so sincerely and greatly…

“Quite a surprise. How long must have these plants grown there to hide an entire pavilion underneath?”  
Gladio blinked and looked up at the roof of the kiosk, where Ignis stood, a hand to the waist and the hips pushed to a side. It was a silly posture that Gladio had called ‘fabulous’ multiple times back when he enjoyed annoying him out of the pleasure of seeing Ignis angered, and while he still wanted to tag it that way, this time friendly, he kept the comment to himself. The man was looking at what little he could see of the structure from there, before looking at the beast.  
“Thanks for the help.”

Gladio, still a bit moved from the memories of the kiosk and fearing Ignis could read his mind if he looked at his face for too long, stared away and only shrugged as if saying ‘it was nothing’.  
As terribly curious as he was, Ignis was more focused in looking at the kiosk than in his own steps as he approached the edge, ready to come back down. And, of course, and like Prompto foretold, the irony of life had as a Must the fact that Ignis, for laughing at Gladio, had to fall down too. 

The beast had already seen the climbing plant that was tangled around the man’s ankle, but he assumed that Ignis, as terribly smart as he was, had already noticed. So Gladio said nothing, watched him silently as the man reached for the edge of the roof where he was standing. 

 

From the windowsill, a bit distracted into staring at the kiosk, none candelabra or clock paid major attention to the man when he tried to get off the roof.   
They did, however, turn to look when all they heard was a yelp, a very late “Ignis-!”, and found the figure of the man falling from a side straight to the ground. The beast approached him in a mixture of concern and absolute fun, asking about his state but also laughing. 

Prompto laughed as well, while Noctis stood up and tried to remember where the hell those blue matchsticks that he just lost in a bet could be.

 

They spent some moments, as Ignis stood up and cleaned the dust and dirt off himself, talking at once, both awkward and not sure what to say, both interrupting, both talking at the same time the other did, and none really listening too much neither to what the other was saying nor to what they were saying themselves. Gladio talked a lot about how he had already seen the plant, but thought Ignis had noticed, apologized for not saying anything, apologized for not helping Ignis to clean himself but ‘the claws, I can’t’, all while Ignis talked about endless ‘No, it’s fine’, how he did deserve that for having laughed when Gladio fell, and more ‘Leave it, really’. It seemed that both talked anything that came to mind just for the sake of trying to pretend that it hadn’t been funny, because none were sure if they were already in the stage where they could laugh at each other’s harmless misery or not. 

After that, both stayed quiet. Ignis looked at the kiosk, both to avoid the embarrassment of looking at the beast, and to finally get a look of the structure. Gladio looked at it as well as if wanting to share what Ignis was thinking and doing, sort of like when a child doesn’t know how to bond with their dad so he just stares at dad’s papers despite not being able to understand them. Gladio, however, could understand the kiosk, even better than the human himself. It was part of his childhood and teen ages.

They shared the silence together, both admiring the kiosk. The metal was rusty and wasted; the black color was all scratched, damaged and even faded in some parts. All signs of golden were lost. The entire structure was covered in reddish spots of rusted metal. 

Despite that, the patterns were still noticeable; the lines and figures, the little subtle skulls, the royal flowers and emblems. Luckily, Ignis either did not notice the patterns within the pattern, or he had already gotten over that, and nothing triggered him into the headaches and déjà vu.   
“It’s beautiful” Ignis said in a little exhale.   
“Yeah…” Gladio half-agreed, clearly in doubt, admiring the kiosk that was almost still the same than back when he was younger.  
Except that now, like his life, like his heart, and like his appearance, it was but an ugly, unwanted thing, long forgotten, broken and hideous beyond repair. Only a ghost of what it used to be. All beauty, in all senses, lost and long gone. Hidden from the world, kept where no one could, or wanted, to see… 

“It’s not unfixable.”

The way it was so precise according to his own thoughts and comparisons made Gladio flinch a bit. He turned to look at the man with slightly surprised eyes, as if asking him if he worded it that way on purpose, asking him if he really _could_ read minds. Ignis did not seem to catch the questions in his eyes, as he did but stand there, watching the kiosk, arms crossed. Gladio still looked at him, but all that the man did was to tilt the head lightly to a side, thoughtful, analyzing the kiosk, and it was until longer moments later that he did turn to look back at the beast.  
“Cleaning here and there, some paint if available…” he listed and shrugged a shoulder before looking again at the little structure. “I can restore it.”

Gladio still did not take the eyes off him. The man was focused looking at the metal pavilion, not minding him. But the beast was focused in him, not minding that Ignis was not glancing back. 

The beast felt the heart flutter inside himself and he looked away only for a moment. With a warm smile, however, he could not help but subtly look at Ignis again.

Yes. There was nothing Ignis could not do.   
He could, and he would fix it.

\--

The smaller the left side of the book got with each night that they read it, the more nervous Gladio got, and the more time he spent thinking what to do after they would finish it.

Either the book was smaller than he remembered, or he was just enjoying too much of Ignis’ nightly read and hence it seemed to have come to an end far too soon. It only made sense; they had been reading an entire chapter per night, so it was only logical that, two weeks since they started, it was the night when they finished all fourteen chapters. 

If he had to be honest, Gladio had been much more in his head than paying attention at all to what Ignis was reading aloud for him that night. The final chapter was very enjoyable, but the beast could not focus there; he was worried about what would come after this. He assumed that once this book was over, that was it. It had been too good to last long; the new habit he had grown with Ignis would turn out to have been only a passenger activity. Only two weeks he got to spend into this incredible ‘habit’; sat next to Ignis, hearing his melodic, musical voice read for him, and having his hand caressing his head and fur. Good…far too good. Like a dream, almost like a utopia; to sit next to him felt like being accepted by another person, which was already utopic enough. To have Ignis’ wonderful, unique, blessed voice read for him…that was far beyond utopic, yet he had that too. And Ignis’ hand caressing his fur, stopping each time Gladio asked him for it, and that now, weeks later, felt so much better than the first night…

Yes. Too good to last long.  
At least Gladio enjoyed and adored and loved every second of it while it lasted.

He had thought about asking Ignis to read yet another book for him after finishing this one, but, sat next to him and only three pages from finishing “The Night Sky on Eos”, he knew he would not have the guts to ask him. Ignis would think him creepy, annoying, clingy, too harassing…and who knew if the man _enjoyed_ of this at all. Like always, Gladio reminded to himself what had almost become a mantra; that Ignis accepted his presence did not mean he _liked_ or _wanted_ it. It was best not to ask him for more reading. He could annoy him…

Too focused in the future, Gladio missed the present and what he knew would be the last night that Ignis read for him. By the moment he noticed, Ignis was already reading the last paragraph. Gladio’s ears flapped up when he finally got out of his thoughts and realized he had not enjoyed nor paid attention to the last of Ignis’ nocturnal reads, and sadly watched the words as Ignis’ voice traveled over them, like each word was smaller and closer to death. It felt like a good friend was dying and there was nothing he could do except watch it all come to an end, and goodbye to the good times. That last paragraph, Ignis read slow. Gladio, for a moment, liked to think that he too was scared of finishing the book and with it that stage of their lives that had almost become a habit, but he assumed that it was more likely that Ignis was only giving it a proper pace for an ending. He made a very good narrator. 

“A mystery, distant and close, vast and unknown” Ignis read slowly on the last page, voice quieter than usual; Gladiolus, having grown more and more accustomed to being touched, had yet not asked him to take the hand away, so Ignis was still caressing the fur of his head, “the universe above, around, and within us has been explored for all of humankind’s history through science, art, religion and endless other matters…”  
Gladio did not dare close to eyes; he had missed most of that night’s reading, and he did not want to miss, at least, the last word when it would be delivered. Still, he felt a knot form in his throat and he fought with himself to stay still.   
“…and yet, despite the millennia that has been dedicated to try to understand the cosmos” Ignis continued, “I am afraid to tell you that we will never unveil all the secrets hidden in the Night Sky on Eos.”

And there it was; the ending.

Both stayed quiet for a good while. Ignis’ hand on him had already started to feel like fire, but Gladio had no voice to ask him to stop. The reading had finished, and asking him to let go of him was losing the last of Ignis’ caresses too; he touched him every now and then, but never did he dedicate time to just stroke his hair like he did in the library while they read. And after that, he would also lose this little but big detail of being sat next to him. Gladio did not want any of this to end, but he knew it had to come sooner or later, so the only thing he could do was enjoy the little seconds he had left of it. 

Ignis said nothing and only continued caressing the beast’s hair. He felt…strange. Like something important had died; like, now that he had finished that book, something was missing. He had not particularly enjoyed of the nocturnal reading…he had thought. It was relaxing and a good way to kill time, but he had not noticed he _enjoyed_ of it…until now that he realized the book was over, and so was their daily reading. It felt sort of disappointing, like he had hoped for the book to go on and on until who knows when. At first, he did not dare do anything or look in the beast’s direction.

Some moments later, Ignis removed the hand from his head and used it to close the book, calmly, quiet. He took in a deep breath and let it out quietly through the nose, trying to think of a comment. Surprisingly, it was Gladio who moved first.  
“So…” the beast said while sitting straight up on the chair instead of keeping arms and head on the table, “that’s what it says.”  
Ignis saw the beast stretch the arms like he was just waking up, and then like he was getting prepared for training. The man quietly agreed.   
“Well” the beast said, putting the arms back down on the table now that he had stretched, but not daring to turn to look at Ignis, “that was very enjoyable. I had lots of fun with it.”

Ignis wanted to agree, but he feared of what the beast would say if he did that. So he said nothing; he was not even given the chance before Gladio had already turned to look at him for real this time, with a small smile.  
“Thanks, Ignis. You’ve got a nice voice, and you really know how to read as in…as in the art of it” Gladio told him in a softer voice, smiling. “You taken theatre classes?”  
“Oh, uhm, no, not really” Ignis said apparently taken off-guard and a bit flustered. He was honest, for what Gladio could tell, but he still looked a little embarrassed, fidgeting with his glasses. “I just…” but, finding no explanation, Ignis merely shrugged at him. By any response, Gladio chuckled, still staring at him.   
“Let me accompany you to put that in its place” Gladio murmured to him at the time he stood up from his chair. Ignis followed and walked side by side with the beast in silence to the astronomy section.

None said anything in all the way, and while the silence was tense, it was not uncomfortable. It was clear both had the minds busy in other things, so none paid major attention to the silence. They reached the correct shelf as silently, and Gladio stopped at a prudent distance from it while Ignis walked deeper into the hallway. He checked the book and then the shelf, looking for its correct place. Used the little stairs to climb a few steps and put the book in its place.  
And there it went, to not come back for their daily reading.   
Gladio let Ignis pass first when he put the feet back on the floor, and both walked, again in silence, back to the low section. 

It was while they were going down a set of staircases and while both thought about how to say goodbye to this habit that one of the double doors of the main entrance opened. Still coming downstairs, both man and beast turned to see a coat rack with a purple scarf come in, pushing a cart with a couple books on it. Ignis and Gladio stopped in their track when their roads met.  
“Ah” Ignis said in recognition as the cart stopped right next to him. He took one of the books and checked it. “It’s the ones I already read.”  
“Back in the library as you requested, Ignis” the rack answered, in his always a bit too uptight way of standing that reminded Ignis, senselessly and maybe a bit childishly in his own head, of a soldier. “I’m glad to see I didn’t interrupt anything.”  
“That’s quite alright” Ignis replied and put the book back on the pile of the cart. Gladio felt his face burn under the fur; ‘interrupt anything’. Chst. “You can leave the cart here, Nyx, I will put the books back in their place myself.”  
“You sure?” Nyx asked him, crossing his…arms. Ignis nodded once and smiled.  
“Thank you for bringing them here” Ignis said, firm on his decision to do it himself.

“Alright” Nyx said and, with a little bow of the head, he added; “goodnight.”  
“Goodnight, Nyx.”  
“Night, Nyx” Gladio said as well, and soon enough the coat rack was waddling his way back to the entrance. 

Not helping his curiosity, Gladio looked at the books that he could see scattered across the cart. He read the titles one after the other, and he was right about to open the mouth when he remembered that he had told Ignis he could not read, stopped himself before betraying his own lie, and instead took one of the books, flicking through it.  
“All these look super old and…like…” Gladio said after he had gone through the pages of some of them, quickly. “…I don’t know. Super serious? Academic?”  
“Well, yes, they’re all ‘super serious’ and quite academic” Ignis confirmed, taking one of them and checking it out distractedly. “Mostly academic essays and some researches.”  
“Hm…” the beast frowned slightly as if not understanding and continued to check the titles. It was ridiculous; it was like Ignis was a young adult in his crisis of having to write the best thesis Eos has ever known or he would die. They were all enjoyable reads, but any man could only stand so much without tiring from so much academic stuff. Even Gladio himself got bored of his favorite genre, history, if he read too much of it without something lighter in between.

He continued to check them for a moment before, once again moved by the immense curiosity that only literature could make him feel, he looked at the man.  
“Why?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Why read so much…academic?” Gladio asked. “I mean, it’s okay, but it’s always good to switch genres every now and then.”  
Ignis’ eyebrows furrowed lightly and he tilted the head very subtly to a side, like a child not understanding.  
“I mean, by the way you’ve talked about your life as a teacher” Gladio said while he went back to analyze one of the books, “you seem to always have lots of academic reads to do.”  
“Ah, no…that’s-…I’m an- I was also an academic and thesis reviewer…sometimes” Ignis said while looking away and pushing his glasses very softly, cheeks turning very, very subtly pink. He hated to feel like he was bragging, but he did not want to not clarify things either.   
“Academic and thesis rev- didn’t you tell me you were twenty-two?” Gladio asked.  
“And I also told you I already have a doctorate” Ignis reminded him. “It isn’t impossible for me to be capacitated enough to be a thesis reviewer as young.”

“It’s not that you’re too young” Gladio said and put the book he was holding back on the pile. “It’s that…”  
“…what?” Ignis asked after the pause lingered too much.  
“…it’s nothing” Gladio ended up saying, looking away again and sighing subtly. “It just sort of sounds like you unnecessarily overwork in your normal life, back in town.”  
Ignis blinked and looked away as if in realization, like Gladio’s words had been a brick that smacked him on the face and said ‘how can he see _your_ life better than you can?’. However, before giving him too much time to think about it, Gladio took another book and checked it out.   
“So it just seemed curious to me” the beast said, “that you already read lots of academic back in town. Why read them here too? Or why this many? Don’t you like other genres? You don’t like a good novel every now and then?”  
“Novels?” Ignis asked, eyebrows raising lightly and voice lowering, insecure. “I…have never…”  
“You’ve never read a novel!?”

Ignis blinked and kept the eyes slightly widened; well, Gladio had snapped out on him in full beast mode before, but never…rationally like this. He did once, back when Ignis first prepared him noodles, but it was more of a personal freak out. Right there in the library, Gladio was freaking out in front of him, sharing conversation with him and, somehow, hence, sharing that…agitation with him. Ignis blinked a bit and looked slightly away, a little embarrassed from what he had just admitted.  
“Uhm…well…I don’t…didn’t have the time to focus on non-academic texts before, and I guess…” Ignis shrugged. “I guess it hadn’t crossed my mind in my stay here…”  
“Never? Not even once? Not one? Not a paragraph?” Gladio asked him, shooting question after question, all of which Ignis replied with a quick and low ‘No’ or by shaking the head. The beast was looking at him with wide eyes, those that reminded Ignis so much of a child, but he looked rather offended than curious. They stayed quiet. It was an awkward silence that, despite that, for once felt funny to Ignis, but he did not dare laugh while Gladio was giving him that offended and shocked look. “You stay here.”

Ignis wasn’t even given the chance to ask anything when Gladio was already turning his back on him and leaving. He hurried to some staircase and disappeared into it. Ignis could swear Gladio was so into it that he had even run upstairs on all four, like he used to do only when hurrying too much or when the animal side was thinking more than the rational one. It was sort of hilarious, if a bit startling, that the beast reacted so upset by such an “unimportant” thing like literature. It was like watching a child that was just told their favorite character is silly and they feel in the mighty _necessity_ to prove otherwise. Ignis followed him with the eyes, not moving from the spot, and watched him look through shelves and run from one to the other, or disappear in staircases and continue digging in shelves. The man raised an eyebrow and smiled while staring; this was suspicious, and only did but confirm a little more what he had already suspected, but he said nothing and waited for the beast to come back.

When Gladio returned, he was carrying seven books. It looked like an easy task for someone with such big hands, big arms, big figure in general. He reached for Ignis, noticed he had nowhere to put the books and that the man was smaller than him and couldn’t do such a thing as carrying seven books as easily, awkwardly turned over himself before finding the table right at their side, and he put them down in there. He took one and showed it to Ignis.  
“You can start with this one” Gladio said and lent it to him, but just as Ignis was grabbing it Gladio took it back to himself and started skipping through the pages. “Personally, I think- you know what- no- you can start- forget this, you…”  
Ignis’ eyebrows slightly furrowed and he smiled, a little weirded out. It was a bit startling still, that Gladio went nuts over books…  
 _But it’s…sort of cute._

Feeling his cheeks burn red and half-hiding half of his face behind a hand as if to cough, Ignis nagged himself for such a thought. It was not like Gladio was a puppy, he was not a wild animal. And he also, of course, did not mean that as a person, because he was not a person either. He only meant it as in…friendly. Politely. Every creature had its own kind of cuteness, right? That was what he meant, and it was normal.  
“This one” Gladio said after making a bit of a mess with the pile of books he had brought. Ignis was about to grab it, but Gladio did it again; he took the book away, muttering and talking with himself before searching again among books. “No, no, _this_ one, oh gods.”  
“How can you difference them?” Ignis asked him with a bigger smile. “The covers are all plain. You clearly cannot read the titles, can you?”  
“I’ve told you no, I just-“ Gladio said and seemed to be in a bit of troubles before he skipped through the pages. “The drawings inside. The- typography. See, I remember this stuff. Not the words, but you know, the…style and the letters, and I recognize some of the drawings, and this one, look.”

Ignis hesitated at first, but then he got closer to the beast until he was standing some inches of distance at his side. He subtly looked up at Gladio to see if he had any reaction; Ignis, at first, had been so busy into his own attempt of avoiding the beast that he had not noticed until after the night of daemons or so that Gladiolus ran from him as well, tried to avoid contact, like Ignis was the dangerous one. But, right in that moment, Gladio did not even flinch or tense, did not gave it second thought to having Ignis right next to him, so close the beast’s fur tickled on his skin. The man tried to not overthink and looked at the open book that Gladio held up for both to look at.  
“See, this is one of my favorites and I remember it’s pretty easy if one wants to start with novel” Gladio started explaining while calmly skipping through the pages. “I know so many drawings- I know it may seem childish, and it is sort of appropriate for a young audience, but when you look at it with a bigger, adult perspective- not as in, it’s not that it changes, it’s that you…”

“…understand it?”  
“Understand it” Gladio confirmed after Ignis had given him the word he was looking for. “Understand it much better. A child can understand it, but, at least to me, when I re-read it…a few years ago, that is, when I could, uh…” he cleared his throat. “It was…” he gestured a little but did not seem to find the word.   
“Impacting?”  
“Impacting” Gladio murmured, completely fascinated. The way he looked so passionate as he spoke about the book made Ignis smile, rather than what he was saying itself. “When you start it, it’s just another young-adult or teenage novel, maybe even childish, but the more you advance, some of the metaphors that the author uses- it goes beyond just comparisons, the entire story, the entire concept, the entire…” he gestured and did not find the word. “It’s everything just one huge allegory. And it speaks about- when you look at it with those eyes, every character turns into a concept rather than a person, and the story, dear Six above, it takes this…sense of…”

Ignis only smiled, staring at him. Oh, dear Gladiolus, an awful liar, and an incredibly, beautifully passionate for the things he liked. It was yet another new facet of him that Ignis was discovering, and that he suddenly felt honored to see. It felt…a bit intimate. He could not picture himself allowing someone into seeing him rant and burst into his passion as Gladiolus was doing with him, for him. And how dearly passionate Gladio seemed to be into it, like he was into flowers except even more, it was exciting and made Ignis feel happy. Gladio seemed so relaxed and happy, so excited. Like that child, who Ignis compared him so often with, was going on about his imaginary adventures; only needed a pair of patient ears, and no stop for that mouth. But it was sincerely beautiful to witness. The face of innocence and excitement themselves. 

“…and this is- oh gods, you can- I am so embarrassed right now, but also so triggered and I just have to say it” Gladio continued into his rant, having reached some page and showing Ignis a drawing. “This is my favorite part, because…” he paused and seemed to hesitate. Ignis looked up at him and perceived some embarrassment, but that did not stop the beast. “That’s who’s going to be the protagonist. And this is the part where he meets the princess, but he doesn’t know that” as he spoke, he turned to look at Ignis, gesturing a little with a hand and looking at him as if this was about deciphering codes instead of a novel. “Not until chapter three, and it gets so good, and- dear Astrals, you must think me an idiot and a child, but…”  
“No, no, I don’t” Ignis interrupted him gently and smiled up at him. “I think it’s lovely. That you enjoy of this story so much, and, I assume, of all those other books.”

“Yes, I do” Gladio replied happily to the implicit question. “They’re all wonderful choices, and I think that they’re perfect to start someone into novel reading. I’ve- I really like novels, and I thought- but if you don’t want to-”  
“No, no…it’s alright” Ignis reassured him again. Gladio seemed rather nervous and a bit anxious about this. It was normal, Ignis assumed; the beast was sharing his passion, so of course he was afraid he could have just opened up to end up being rejected. “I do am quite exhausted from all the academic texts. A change will make me good…and you seem rather excited about these novels, so they must be wonderful.”  
“Yeah” Gladio agreed again, a bit more shyly than before. He was smiling, but the shyness was more than palpable. “You don’t- I can go make other choices, because half of these are…mostly into the romance genre, and…maybe you’re not…” he shrugged and looked away. “…interested, so…”

Ignis blinked with curiosity and looked at what had been a pile but was now a series of books scattered across the end of the table. He looked at them like a curious bird.  
“Hm…I’ve never been…too much into all this romance stuff…” he admitted. Gladio’s ears slowly started lowering. Ignis turned to look at him. “But I can try. I _will_ try.”

Gladio’s ears flapped up and the tip of his tail started swinging. He let it, only because he did not notice. He saw Ignis smile at him before looking again at the books, picking one up and looking at it.  
“It may be interesting” Ignis said. “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just…” he seemed to grow sort of shy about it, as if he was talking about something else that Gladio was not catching, and did not dare look in the beast’s direction. “…it’s just…I’ve never tried…”  
“…well…uhm…” Gladio, too, grew a bit shy, if not understanding very well why. Perhaps it was just Ignis’ own shyness being contagious. “These novels are not too clichéd, and the characters do have chemistry, so it doesn’t feel forced” he stared at the man, who did dare to look at him this time. Gladio gently smiled. “Hopefully you enjoy it. First experience with romance.”

Ignis stared at him some moments. He blinked once, looked slightly away, and smiled.  
“Yes” he murmured. “Hopefully.”  
“Good” Gladio said and looked again at the books scattered next to them. He paused and sighed shortly. “Well…I guess any of these books will do just fine. You- if you want to read them, you try them in whichever order you want. I tried to pick mostly one-book novels, but…hm…this, and this one, they have second and third parts, so if any of them catches your attention, I can give you second and third books, or- or, if you prefer it, I can tell you where they are, so you can look for them yourself. Alright?”  
“I’m grateful for your attention” Ignis said with a smile and a little bow of the head. “You’re very kind with me.”  
“Ah…yeah…uhm…” Gladio, awkward and a bit startled but mostly attacked by shyness again from the man’s words, looked away and smiled timidly. “…I…try…”

Both stood together rather shyly. Ignis still held one of the books, gently hugged to his chest. Gladio kept a hand on the table, looking slightly away. Both were smiling, but little did they dare look at each other. Talking during an outburst of excitement was easy; dealing with the awkward silence afterwards was a challenge.

Ignis, on his part, was dealing with a terrible knot in…the stomach? It felt like nervousness, but a little different. In the past he had had to deal with nervousness, but this was a bit different, and a bit new too. He had been nervous when he applied for his job; nervous when he had battles; but this was more similar to the kind of nervous that Aranea only once made him feel. Except different; he had been nervous about offending her, and nervous about giving her his answers. But…being on the giver side of the question, rather than answering it…it was a new sort of nerves. It was a bit frightening. He did not usually think about rejection; the school took him in as teacher almost immediately after he applied for it. He became a hunter as soon as he applied for it. The only relationship he had had, he was asked for it, never did he go to look for it. 

He was not used to rejection. And the possibility of it was…a bit…scary, in a silly way that made him feel a bit embarrassed of himself. Why was this such a big deal? It was just a question. He could pop it. And so what if Gladiolus said no? It was not…like it was a big deal.  
Ignis had been thinking about it after some seconds into Gladiolus’ sudden rant about his favorite novel from the bunch he had picked. The idea slowly crept up in him, and it was doing but poking him in the brain, insisting on him, asking him to try. He knew he had no reasons to feel this terribly, agonizingly shy about it, and no reasons to fear rejection, as possible as it was, but…well. It was not like he could help his feelings; they came and went on their own. All he could do was deal with them.

He lowered the book, so he still held it with both hands but down by his lap rather than keeping it hugged to himself. He felt silly realizing he had had it there for so long.   
“…so…uhm…Gladiolus…” he called politely, but the shyness was so obvious he had Gladio’s attention in many ways. The beast looked at him, smile gone, patient. That he was showing so much patience and comprehension made Ignis feel even shier, and he mentally cursed; he had assumed patience and comprehension would make it easier, it was mere logic, so why were they making him feel shier!? He took a moment and glanced away once, a hand shyly gripping the opposite arm as if to gather strength somehow. “I was…” a pause. “…thinking.”  
“Tell me something new” Gladio said playfully with the slight raise of an eyebrow. The man grinned and chuckled back. “What is it, Ignis? Anything the matter?”

“Everything in order, I was just…” Ignis paused again. He hated himself for a second, and how hard this was. He was Ignis Scientia, he feared nothing, and feelings had never been an obstacle. So why now? “…I was…it may be a silly request, but I was thinking…” yet another pause, but the beast did not seem to mind. “…this…what we did- the…reading of the book…” he said and looked at Gladio as if asking him if he was understanding. The beast nodded to answer the silent question. “It was…hm…recreational.”  
 _Recreational. Fantastic choice of words, Ignis. What is this, the fifth century!?_  
“Recreational” Gladio repeated. That he repeated it made Ignis notice how stupid it sounded, and his cheeks burnt slightly in embarrassment, but he tried to pretend he never said that word.  
“And I thought…” Ignis continued and tried to come up with an excuse that he had already planned, but that had all vanished from his head in the last second. “…well…you know that, back in town, I’m mostly in charge of middle and high school students…”

Gladio nodded yet again, still quiet and patient.   
“I…hadn’t dared to go with primary or kindergarten because…” he looked away and shrugged a bit. “I…don’t feel ready to teach children…”  
It was clear that the beast was not catching where this was going, and Ignis did not blame him. Still, Gladio nodded, understanding, and silently encouraging Ignis that it was okay to share whatever he was thinking. It took the man a moment more, and he did hesitate about taking it back or not, but he was midways through it and preferred to go on.  
“…and I thought…” Ignis continued. “Maybe…through books, and reading to them…I mean, you’ve…told me I’ve got some skills for reading aloud and not make it boring…” yet again, the beast nodded, this time with a smile. “Maybe that could be…a good teaching method. But…”

There, he paused again and lowered the head. He suddenly felt very, very stupid. What had sounded smooth and calm in his head, it now sounded very stupid and he regretted it, but he would regret more not having said anything and make things awkward. So he went on.  
“…but I fear I may not have enough practice” he said lowly. Gladio just looked at him some moments, and it took a pause before the beast started catching it. His ears started tensing at the time his eyes slowly started widening, but before he could fully catch it, Ignis confirmed it for him. “And I was wondering…you’re free to say no, but…perhaps, if you’re up for it…” Ignis shyly but widely smiled at him. “…maybe we could…you could help me with it and…maybe, we can keep up the…night reading…as we’ve been doing the past weeks?”

Gladio’s ears ended up flapping up again and he took in a silent but noticeable breath. He looked utterly shocked, but not in a bad way, despite the lack of smile. Ignis’ smile widened a little, but so the red of his cheeks deepened a little bit more as well.   
“You don’t have to if you don’t want, but I thought…” Ignis hurried to add. “I thought it would be…helpful. You know, that way…I get to practice a bit more, this about reading aloud for others, and…” Ignis shrugged and brought the book he was holding back up again to show it, and lowered it again, a bit awkward. “…maybe we can try with a novel now? It does require to be read differently from academic texts, so it would be…helpful…” 

The beast still did not answer. He stayed still, frozen, staring at Ignis with some sort of shock. Slowly, eventually, he started smiling.  
“…are you…suggesting…” the beast started asking. “…that we- we continue coming here at nights before dinner, and read and…all of that? Like we’ve done the past weeks? You want to keep that up?”  
Ignis smiled; usually, he hated that people were repetitive, but Gladio made it seem so cute (in his own…beast way), and he just could not be mad at him. He nodded.   
“We can start with any novel that you want” Ignis said. “You would be helping _me_ , so the least that I could do to compensate your help and the time you dedicate to me- to it…would be to at least make it as enjoyable for you as possible.”  
“Really?”  
“What?”

Gladio looked at him with gleamy and hopeful eyes, those that were full of innocence and a big sparkle of life. Ignis’ smile widened just from the way the beast looked at him.  
“…would you read more for me?” Gladio asked in almost a murmur, hopeful and as if not believing it, like he had just been told he had free access to heaven’s gardens and treasures as he pleased. Ignis, sort of flattered from how Gladio was reacting and how he looked at the man, smiled, if a bit embarrassed.   
“Yes, of course.”

It was an immediate reaction that appeared along Gladio’s smile, but the smile was the first thing that Ignis saw. Gladio’s face lit up with such a joy that it was almost like the sun in his face, like the excitement could literally color the aura around him. He smiled widely until it turned into a grin, ears straight upwards, and eyes gleaming with such a joy that it was too contagious and Ignis could not help but grin back and even chuckle a bit.   
But then, inevitably because it was too noticeable, he looked down.  
Gladio’s tail was _enthusiastically, furiously_ wriggling.   
It had moved entirely up instead of dragging on the floor, and it was swinging so fast and so hard that Gladio’s butt moved subtly along it. Gladio was offering a front view, but the tail showed from behind him every time it swung to the sides; Ignis could see it every time it swung to the left, where his eyes looked by reflex. 

Gladio, of course, immediately forced it to stop and, awkwardly, moved the hands to his butt to get a grip of his own tail.   
Like a scared dog, the tail itself reacted by hiding between his legs, a subtle gesture as Gladio was not on all fours and it did not show arched through his thighs or anything. It only stayed hidden between the legs, while the hands pressed the spot where the tail grew as if to contain it, even though it was not swinging anymore, not even on the tip.   
“Oh, no, I didn’t- no- I’m-” Gladio rushed in murmurs, smile gone, and that once radiant expression now entirely transformed into an incredibly concerned and too embarrassed expression. His ears went down so much that Ignis felt a pinch in the heart; it felt like watching a kitty lower the head, sad. Ignis was now looking up at his face, a bit surprised and not sure what to say. Gladio had the head lowered, did not dare to make eye contact, and he looked so embarrassed, so profoundly, agonizingly and intimately embarrassed that it was not even funny. 

Ignis had started to smile at first, but Gladio’s reaction was…concerning. He looked troubled, like a little boy accidentally showing himself naked in front of a crowd and desperate because there’s nothing he can do about it; he already hid it, but it was already seen, so there was not much a point in excusing himself or saying anything or doing anything. It was an embarrassment so profound and intimate that Ignis’ heart dropped, but speeded up. The first thing that he thought was “Do something, he’s seriously sad”, but he stayed frozen at first, unsure of what to do. He could only look at Gladio with the head lowered, the ears down, murmuring sometimes a couple of ‘No, I’m sorry’, and the hands on his butt. His entire corporal language, tense and shrugged, was so embarrassed and so scared that Ignis felt even worse. 

“I’m- sorry, Ignis, I didn’t mean…” Gladio continued apologizing, still not looking at him. “I didn’t- it’s not- that’s not…usual, I don’t- I’m not a…” he put a hand to his forehead and sighed loudly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that…”  
“No, why are you- that’s okay” Ignis reassured him, trying to not look back down. “Why would you apologize?”  
Gladio took a few moments and swallowed, embarrassed, but he was not given a chance when Ignis spoke again.  
“That means you’re happy. Right?”

The beast blinked in surprise and looked up at him as if not having expected that, not sure of how to react or how Ignis meant it. The man, however, did not look mocking in any way. The look on his face was that of serious, but innocent. Ignis did not often have that look; it was more common to see him thoughtful or serious like an adult, or calm like the _young_ adult he was, but not with this sort of innocence. Gladio blinked again, not sure what to expect of the previous statement and question.  
“That your tail swings. It’s a reaction for when you’re happy, right?” Ignis asked him again. Gladio was still embarrassed, but the way Ignis asked and looked at him made him…a bit more comfortable, and he gathered confidence enough to at least nod. “Then you have no reasons to be this oddly upset. Why would anyone apologize for being happy?”

Gladio’s ears twitched in response. They were untensed now, neither up or down, just like his head. Not sad or happy, just…listening. Neutral. All he could do was stare at Ignis.  
He…had not thought about it that way…  
The embarrassing thing was that Gladio was not- he _was_ an animal, but he knew he was not, or had not always been. He hated his looks as they were, but he hated even more to _behave_ like the animal he daily fought to not be. And a swinging tail, dear gods, from the most embarrassing things that could happen to his body…! A swinging tail! Like he was a lap dog bringing a ball or greeting a friend. He was a man, a soldier, heck, he was nobility…to swing the tail was…denigrating…

But Ignis was right.  
It was his nature, right? His new nature, at least. He swung the tail because he was happy, like anyone would smile. It was not something he controlled. And forcing it to stop did sort of kill the excitement each time. Ignis, Ignis “does this man ever make any facial expression” Scientia, from all people, making him realize that there was nothing wrong with being happy and expressing it…  
Gladio smiled.   
He still felt a little awkward, but he smiled. He had not noticed when he had let go of his butt. His body untensed, and all hint of that terribly overwhelming embarrassment was gone.   
Yes. Ignis was right.

“Besides” the man took him out of his thoughts, “it started swinging because of my offer” Ignis gave him a…playful smile. A rare smile that Gladio did not often see; Ignis had been kind with him, but playful? “Indeed” Ignis’ smile widened a little, “I would be offended if it didn’t move.”  
One of Gladio’s ear twitched and he blinked as if asking ‘Did you really just make a joke of sorts?’  
He was used to Ignis’ kindness and politeness, and this was yet another act of all that; it was the man telling him it was alright for Gladio to let his tail wriggle, but instead of the usual paranoidly kind way, it was…much friendlier. So much more natural. And even with a hint of joking in among.  
By any response to his slight surprise, Ignis’ smile widened only a little more, before he grew a bit embarrassed from getting no reply and looked away for a moment. 

“Y-yeah” Gladio said, forcing himself out of all his thoughts and surprise. “I just- I guess…I’m not used to having someone else see it do the thing…”  
Ignis laughed very lowly at the way the beast worded that. ‘The thing’. More than a laugh, it was a quite giggle, and the sound of it, right while Gladio was busy thinking about this man’s kindness and playful side, made the beast feel a funny tickle inside, somewhere on top of the lungs. His smile widened and he lowered slightly the head, shy in a way that felt much better and that did not embarrass him. 

Such a big deal…Gladio had made such a big, unnecessarily huge deal out of the swing of his tail, he had been so paranoid for the past months about hiding its wriggle, he had fought with all his might to stop it so often…for it to end up being shrugged off in a second. Just like it had taken only half an hour to find a kiosk that was hidden five years. Such a huge deal that ended up reduced to a friendly joke. Such a huge thing that had made Gladio feel embarrassed, sad, anxious, nervous for _months_ …and now it felt, with just a statement and a silly friendly joke, in just a matter of seconds, so natural, and even good?  
Could there be just _one_ day without Ignis flipping his life upside-down in some way?

“Well” Ignis said after his little laugh stopped. “So then is it a deal?”  
“What?”  
“The nightly reading.”  
“Oh! I thought, you know, about letting my tail swing.”  
Yet another of those silly little laughs, and again that funny and happy tickle on top of his lungs, somewhere inside his chest.   
“That, too. Please, let it swing as it pleases, don’t be as rude as to not let it be happy” Ignis said again with that little hint of playfulness in the voice that made both of them smile. “But I meant…about you helping me to improve my reading skills. By listening, not more.”  
“Honor and pleasure would be _all_ mine, Ignis” Gladio said calmly but joyfully. Ignis quickly looked down while the beast was not seeing to see the tip of his tail wriggle, and this time the beast did not stop it. Ignis smiled widely at both words and that little detail. “If- if you ever want to stop…”  
“Same for you” Ignis said with a nod, already too acquainted with that conversation to need of the rest. 

Gladio smiled at him, and that was all that they did for a moment. Smile at each other.  
“Then, every night, same hour, like usual?” Gladio asked him.  
“Like usual” Ignis gave another half-nod. “You could- you can choose which books to read. I mean, you seem to be better acquainted with the novel category than myself, so you choose whatever you want me to read for you.”  
“Any that I want?” the way he asked it reminded Ignis of a primary school kid that had once asked him ‘Can I really choose any candy I want?’  
“Yes, of course” Ignis agreed. “But perhaps we can leave that for tomorrow. Dinner?”  
“How could I forget about-? Holy moogles, _yes_ , dinner!” Gladio cheered and immediately left the subject of literature behind. If there was anything that could distract him from literature that was, apparently, only his passion for food. That alone, but adding the fact that Gladio’s tail lifted off the floor to start gently swinging again, this time shamelessly, made the man cover his mouth slightly behind a pair of fingers to laugh yet again.

Gods, they were not doing anything other than conversate, but he was having _so much_ fun. Gladiolus was, by far, the person- the…creature that he enjoyed the most to be with. He adored Cindy and Aranea, but none of them had ever made an unimportant conversation feel _this_ funny and entertaining. They were not even joking, they were only talking but…Ignis could not stop the little laughs. He felt…happy, relatively. Gladiolus’ own happy aura and attitude were contagious. It felt good (and…sort of healthy?), this about being around him…

While Gladio ranted and talked non-stop (like it had started to become usual from him) about the dish that Ignis served last night, he was gathering the books he had brought earlier back on a pile, and offered Ignis to take them all to his room. Ignis only listened and offered a quiet response when necessary, like it had become usual as well, and like was his forte. He was not sure if Gladiolus did that consciously, but Ignis was, every time, more captured into the conversations they had because Gladiolus was the first living creature that did not insist on him to talk back. Gladio seemed to understand that Ignis not always wanted to talk, but that it did not mean he did not want to _listen_ ; each time they talked, Gladio never insisted on him to give him an answer or to start conversation himself. It was like he understood that all that Ignis wanted was to listen. The first living being that did not insist on him to talk, and it was, ironically but very beautifully, that same fact what made it so easy for Ignis to want to and actually talk with him. 

Gladio was a quite hideous first sight, and even being used to him he could still be imposing, but he was, by far, the most understanding of creatures he had ever known. And that made him oddly…sweet, in his own way. It was not the sort of quiet and warm sweet, rather a happier, a bit bouncier, but still warm sort of sweet. Like a brother, or a similar sort of intimacy.

_Quite an interesting creature, indeed._

Ignis helped him with a couple of the books, and walked at Gladio’s side towards the main doors, comfortable, and calm. Enjoying of all that the beast talked about as happily as had become usual. Gladio, like always, like this was so naturally born from him and not thought-through, opened the door for him, this time with a shoulder as his hands were occupied, and let the man out first. It felt horribly sweet, and it only made Ignis feel even happier and more fond of this creature, always with incredibly gentle manners. He was much more of a gentleman than most of the human men that Ignis knew.  
Indeed, Gladio was, in so many ways, much better than most of the people that he knew. That he was a beast mattered so little. Nothing at all. 

Carrying with books, Ignis mentally cheered and congratulated himself for having had courage enough to ask Gladio about the nightly reading. He wondered how wrong it had been to lie about why he wanted to keep the habit, wondered if it would have been better to have simply admitted he enjoyed a lot of the daily reading and their time together, but did not mind it much. He was starting to learn, not conscious of it, to stop wondering What If’s and pay attention to what was happening in his present, so that was exactly what he did.

Content from the positive results of his proposition, calm from such a good day, and happy in company of what had become a delightful company and not just a bearable presence, Ignis smiled all the way to his room walking next to Gladio, who talked with him about food, as calm, as content, and as happy.

And his tail, of course, gently swinging to the sides, not afraid of being seen, and incredibly comfortable in Ignis’ presence, because there was nothing wrong on being happy, and nothing wrong on sharing that happiness with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nickname "Noct-o-Clock", suggested by Orihime_maychan. Thank you for letting me use it!
> 
> I would like to thank all the new readers, whom I forgot to thank on the previous update.
> 
> A lot of people have dropped this story, but a couple more have taken it up despite the GIANT word count.
> 
> For that, I am immensely, eternally grateful!!
> 
> I hope you continue to enjoy the story. If there's anything that's growing too boring or heavy, please do let me know. 
> 
> Thank you eternally for still staying here and reading!


	25. Music Boxes and Kings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE
> 
> WEEKLY UPDATE! WHAT IS THIS, JUNE 2017!?
> 
> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
> 
> Quicksilver update asjdklsfjsdlkf, I'm SO happy that I got to write this as fast! I was sorta inspired because RAVUS, so there you go! 
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading, buddies! Enjoy! 
> 
>  
> 
> Small warning ahead; nothing important, so if you don't want SPOILERS, don't read the little warning right underneath.
> 
> ...
> 
> ...
> 
> ((Little warning: a tiny bit of violence ahead, mostly verbally, but there is a tiny bit of physical violence against someone older, so be warned. Thank you c:))
> 
> \---
> 
> \---

Music boxes. All that Caleo had been making all those months had been music boxes.

The inventor had not had motivation to build anything at first. He had not been allowed back to school at first because he had to rest and look after his health, and now, even though they used the same excuse, people had not wanted him back in school for fear of having a “lunatic” man teaching their children. Caleo knew that, deep inside, but he still liked to try and believe that it was because the people cared about his health and still wanted him to recover. Losing a son, especially when it was an only child, and after having lost his wife as well, it did cause some impact and it was not something one could get over in a few months. He was not okay, he could admit it, and he liked to think that the reason people didn’t want him back to teaching was because of his health. He liked to believe they were comprehensive and good.

The first months he did have to deal only with living and trying to recover at least a bit from the shock and from the terrible sadness. And, when he tried retaking activities, not having the school, all that he had was his “workshop”, the basement of their house, where he usually fixed things or tried to come up with new inventions. He had tried to come up with something, had spent hours staring at his sketchbook without tracing a single line, had tried to doodle some ideas but always ended up discarding them. He was not motivated. Besides, his head was too busy in other matters to be clear enough and work on his crazy stuff. All that was in his head, of course, was his son, whether directly or indirectly.

That was why the only thing he had been able to make the past months had been music boxes. 

Ravus had watched him in the making of these silly things multiple times. Sometimes, he was fixing some. Most of the times, he was working on making a new one. Some others, he was just fixing one that he had already finished and that Ravus suspected did not really need any repair at all. Caleo Scientia put a lot of time into polishing every music box that he made; he put a lot of care and fragile treatment to painting and decorating them, he worked on every single detail like they were the most important thing he had ever done in his life, and he sometimes looked at the boxes like they were either the greatest reason of love and happiness in his life, or like they made him miserable. Ravus, still in an unjustified hatred towards this man, and hating with all his gut having to look after him, never questioned him. Talking with Caleo was one of the less desirable things in his life, so he only let him be, no words.

Caleo, for once, did not talk with him either, not when he was working on his boxes.

 

The leaves had started to change from green to subtle tones of yellow and orange here and there. Fall was at a mere week, time had passed, and Scientia son had spent half of spring and the entirety of summer away of home. The constant gossip about him had cooled down by now; what had once been the only matter everyone talked about, the mysterious and incredibly tragic disappearance and sure death of the strange but gorgeous son of the strange and loony inventor, now was a matter of old news. It was still talked here and there, but not with the same fervor than when the new first spread. Only few people kept it fresh in their minds, but rarely ever brought it up to conversation, unless it was between themselves.

What had stolen the spotlight of that, at least regarding a Scientia matter, was the news of Caleo’s psychological status. It could only make sense, with how strange that man had always been, that he would end up medically lunatic. Everyone liked to talk about that stuff; about the man that went nuts, the man that imagined and hallucinated things, the man that had lost the head. It was something that people liked to talk about, someone else’s misery. Sometimes, with that matter, the subject of the Healer was brought up. Most of the time the people got so into their general admiration and likeness towards the Healer that they changed subject fully into it. Some other fewer times, the conversation of either Caleo or the Healer derived into another one; that of the Healer’s silver haired assistant, that strange man that refused any sort of company, and whose last name was unknown.

Ravus was used to people talking; even if he had not been, his hatred towards the Lucians and his view of them as savages and ignorant made him care not a single bit about what they could say about him. Ravus had made of himself a weapon with only one task; to save his sister. Whatever was in the way was unimportant. Caleo himself, the man under his charge, was as unimportant, and was only a momentary experience, part of the road and not part of the goal. Sooner or later, Caleo would exit his life.  
Ravus had to admit, though, that as much as he knew this would not last forever, and as little as he cared for Caleo, it was still the most irritating and frustrating of tasks he had been given this far.

He hated nothing more than the once Chancellor of Niflheim, now a praised Lucian Healer. There was nothing and no one in the world that annoyed him more than Ardyn. But he did despise _one_ person more than Ardyn himself. And, even then, Caleo somehow managed to annoy him in the same measures than the Chancellor, and he almost hated him as much as he hated that other person. The question had always been, for all those weeks, daily, _why?_

There was something to Caleo that made Ravus’ blood not only boil, but fully turn into fire inside him. He awoke in Ravus some of his most violent thoughts, and he more than twice had been too tempted to let them all out on Scientia father. But the most frustrating part was not understanding _why._

One day, thanks to a little accident, a beard, the traditional Lucian colors, and a conversation among music boxes, Ravus understood.

 

Caleo had let his beard grow for a while now. It was quite thick, covered his jaw and chin, left most of the cheeks uncovered, though, and it rounded his mouth. He had grown white hair too fast and too much for someone his age, so it was a mixture of grey and light brown colors. His hair had grown a bit, as well. He had never been one to comb his hair or put much time into it, so it was mostly loose, naturally slightly backwards, never covering his face and falling to the sides, instead. A straight hair, and just like the beard, in a mixture of grey and light brown. The more that he let his hair and facial hair grow, the more that Ravus felt irritated in his presence, but he at first did not pay it major attention, or merely did not notice that the irritation came from the new looks of this man.

That day, Caleo had an accident.   
Ravus, as usual, and as he was forced to do this sort of things, had accompanied him to where the man had wanted to go. Caleo asked him to accompany him to the town hall, to visit his brother. _Like I have a choice_ , Ravus thought before escorting this man in the correct direction. Not that he could not walk on his own or would get lost, but Ravus was still tasked and forced to make sure that this man did not open the mouth more than allowed. Not like anyone in town believed him anymore, but Ravus would very much rather not run the risk of someone, just per chance, daring to say ‘Okay, let’s go see the castle’, even if just for curiosity. 

He eavesdropped on Caleo’s conversation for a while, but he did not bring the subject of Ignis’ captivity up. Ravus was not sure as there was no explicit something to confirm it, but the way Caleo’s brother answered, it did not sound as brotherly as Ravus expected. He sounded somewhere between second-hand embarrassed, bored, and exasperated. Caleo was not being annoying, not particularly. Ravus had his own still unknown reasons to hate him, but, being objective, the man was not being annoying, and behaved rather submissively. Still, the mayor treated him like garbage, subtly and implicitly, but still. 

Pscht. What use was a sibling if the only connection was that of blood? That was not a sibling. That was just a blood relative. A real sibling is meant to love and support, regardless of the blood.  
It was amazing how Caleo seemed to enjoy so much of being dragged around in the dirt, humiliated, and hated on; it was crystal clear that his brother did not want him around, yet Caleo insisted on seeing him every now and then just to say hello and ‘have a good while together’.  
What a pathetic man.

As he heard the brothers had started to bid goodbye, and sure that nothing relevant to his interests was said, Ravus left the door from where he had been eavesdropping and left to stand nearby the main entrance of the hall.   
He remembered the first time that he was there. He had waited in this bloody hall for exasperating thirty minutes before he was moved to another room to wait yet again.  
It was the first time that he ever saw Ignis Scientia, one of the obstacles that had gotten in his way recently.  
Ignis had been, to him, just another office worker, nobody important. Ravus sat across him, arms-crossed, glare, frown on face, aggressive and _this_ close to exploding. Ignis was reviewing his papers. Ravus had bought a house at the outskirts of town, but he had needed to hand his papers to the government hall, just due protocol.

It was crystal clear; Ignis had noticed his papers were false.  
His name was false, at least on the last names. There were no registers anywhere that could say that a Ravus whatever-last-name-he-wrote existed. The information on the paper was all falsified, and it was the only info that a twenty-one year old Ignis needed to know that this man had fled his country or his town, whichever it was, with no permission, he had entered Northern Insomnia with no permission, and he had no ways to explain where he had gotten the money to buy that house. This man was not who he was claiming to be.

They shared a silent conversation through the eyes. It was the first time that someone looked at Ravus in the eyes in such a way; it was unreadable. For once in his life, Ravus could not read what the other person was thinking. Or, perhaps, it could have been clear, but Ravus was taken off-guard by the green of his eyes. Ignis had beautiful eyelashes, beautiful eyebrows, and it was only natural they were just companions to even more beautiful eyes. And he was in the bloom of his youth; he was stunning. But that did not take away the fact that he was a government worker, the one that had been designed to check his papers, who had just noticed his papers were false, who was looking at him with that piercing, blazing gaze that managed to take even Ravus himself off-guard and make him feel vulnerable, and who could, in one snap, send him to jail.

And then Ignis did not. He looked away of him back down to the papers, took the blue seal, left its print on the paper, and signed it.   
“That’s everything for today, mister Ravus” Ignis told him, not glancing his way. “Welcome to Northern Insomnia.”

Ravus had wanted to flip his desk and demand an explanation as in why he had let him stay despite having noticed his false papers. Ravus could be, and he _was_ , a criminal, so Ignis had all reasons in the world to jail him. He did escape “his” country, legally but still escaped, he had murdered at least twenty or so people in the way, he had murdered the entrance guards of town to go in there in the first place, the money with which he bought the house _had_ been stolen, Ravus was illegal and a criminal, Ignis had just caught him…and he did this? He did nothing? He let him stay?   
Even though the once Tenebraean prince had spent days wondering why, he later assumed that Ignis must have seen in him not a criminal but some sort of refuge, too scared of being rejected if he told the truth, hence feeling forced to lie.

…which was not much of a lie. Ravus had lost his home in Tenebrae, and he was more a hostage in Niflheim than a citizen. He had first seen himself a criminal, but when Ignis had decided to not jail him it made him notice that he was more like a refuge, lost and alone.   
He was still angry at Ignis for making him realize such a humiliating thing.  
But he was also grateful for their dirty little secret; somehow, letting him live there, Ignis had brought him a step closer to Lunafreya. 

After a while of staring at the staircase that led to the room where he had been attended that once, he turned his attention to the sound of Caleo’s voice. Soon enough, he saw the man come through a door and start heading his way, head slightly down and that eternally melancholic look on his face.   
“There. Thanks for waiting for me, Ravus” Caleo said with a smile. Ravus did not reply and only walked out of the hall, with the man coming right after him. “My brother’s always busy, especially now that my son’s missing. You know, because Ignis used to help him with paperwork and such.”  
Ravus did not reply, like usual. Caleo had always enjoyed of telling him a lot of unrequested things, but now after he had been shown to town as mentally crazy, and as no one wanted to talk with him, his conversations with him had gotten longer and more frequent. It was hell. 

“But I’m glad that he still opens a little spot for me in his schedule” Caleo continued saying as both reached the main stairs and started going down. “It’s important to stay together and in touch. We’re family, so…I know he’s busy and can’t visit me, so I can always visit him instead.”  
Ravus was about to ask him if he was aware that his brother didn’t really either love or like him at all, but that would be showing he was paying attention, and that he did not want.   
Caleo sighed, and he had just opened the mouth to say something else when his foot slipped, and he fell off the remaining three steps that were left before reaching ground.   
Ravus’ instinct, like anyone’s reaction to someone else falling, was to flinch and he did hurry one step down, but he froze in the place afterwards, with no rush to help. He looked around and saw a few people staring, nosy. That was the only reason that drove him to finish going downstairs and bend down to help Caleo up on his feet; if he didn’t, and considering as people knew him as his ‘caretaker’ of sorts, it would be weird, maybe even suspicious. Last thing he wanted was for the people to poke their noses in his stuff if they grew curious, so he acted as he guessed was normal, and helped the man under his charge.

Caleo hissed and whined at times. Ravus whispered some commands, but the man was not replying, focused in the pain.   
It turned out that Caleo could not put one foot down without paining enough to collapse again. He kept saying lowly, only for Ravus to hear, something about his ankle. The Tenebraean was not truly concerned about the man’s injury as he was on the curious eyes, but he assumed that so long he played it natural and cool, everyone would stare away soon enough.   
“Can you walk on your own?” Ravus asked him, coldly, out of protocol.   
“Uhm…” Caleo hesitated. Then, as hesitating, he nodded, clearly unsure about it. Ravus stared at him a few moments. It was obvious the man was lying.

Still, Ravus made him walk. With how tall and strong he was, a small man like Caleo offered no challenge to him. He could easily pick him up and carry him in many ways.   
But no. Let the man suffer; that he reaches the goal on his own. That he pains for it. How easy it would be, right? For a man to have all sorts of comfort, be carried to the goal.   
Real warriors walk their own way, even if it’s on a broken leg, he thought.  
Like Ravus had done. 

Offering an arm of support and half-holding the man just enough to give him enough help to make it possible for him to walk, Ravus slowly made his way to the town’s doctor, the one that had always looked after Caleo before he had switched to see Ardyn. Along the entire way, the older man hissed and clearly tried to contain louder noises of pain, which Ravus was mentally grateful for, with how little he enjoyed of listening to him.   
The doctor looked at his leg.   
“Thankfully, it’s not a broken bone, mister Scientia” the doctor was saying after he had reviewed, patched him up, and let go of him. “You won’t need crutches, but a cane would be very useful. It will make things easier for you until you recover.”  
“I understand” Caleo said gently, and timidly. “Thank you, doctor.”

Caleo had turned sort of quiet and timid with everyone but Ravus after the events of the tavern; it was like he wanted to demonstrate to everyone that he really was not insane, but being fully aware that trying too hard would just throw people deeper into the thought. Not to say that he was also scared about rejection and being looked at like a disgusting worm, something that was easily noticeable…  
Thank the Astrals, the doctor remained kind to him. If it was pretty clear he was not going to believe the issue about the castle with living furniture and a talking beast, he at least was not looking down on Caleo. 

After the visit to the doctor, Ravus accompanied Caleo to his house. He did not offer the cane because 1. It was not his problem and he was most positive that as the king of a kingdom and high commander of an empire that he was, he was no delivery boy to go get a cane for this old man, and 2. If Caleo could not walk on his own at least for a couple days, then so be it! He would stay home, quiet, and everybody wins, right?  
He dropped the man there and left, already having grown exhausted of his stuff. He left Scientia father to continue with his stupid music boxes in the basement of his house. 

\--

Later that day, Ravus did not find Scientia father at home. The idiot, at least practical but still an idiot, had left a note for Ravus telling him he was at the nearby workshop. Ravus recognized it as the one the Scientia often went to for the father’s stuff and gadgets, and because the woman that worked there was one of Ignis’ only two friends. He had not thought this much about Scientia son until now that he was a burden and a difficulty in the way of Lunafreya’s safety. 

When Ravus was at the door, and right as he was about to knock on it, it opened. The blonde woman stood at the other side, and she blinked, a little startled, as response to the surprise of finding Ravus standing outside. Not only was he a surprise like anyone else wold have been; Ravus, incredibly tall and tough, was an imposing sight on his own. She looked up at him in absolute silence.  
It was clear this woman did not trust in him. She looked like she received bad vibes from him.   
For what Ravus cared, she could feel whatever the fuck she wanted. It was not his concern.   
“Scientia” Ravus said coldly. “Is he here?”

The woman, with a little stain of dirt on a cheek from whatever she was possibly working on, only continued to stare up at him, in silence.   
“Ah, Ravus!” before she could answer or open the mouth, the voice of the man Ravus was looking for came from somewhere behind her. She moved to a side and Caleo appeared to sight, even though he was in among too much darkness, walking closer to the door. He already had a cane to help himself walk around. “I was just going to go back home.”  
Ravus stayed quiet and got away of the door, crossing the arms and staring somewhere else. He heard him say some goodbye and talk about something with Cindy.   
“Take care, mister Scientia” Cindy was saying after a while. “If you have any troubles with the cane, or…any troubles, about _anything_ …” she took her gloves from the pockets of her pants and started putting them back on. Ravus could not help but subtly glance her way after what she had just said. “…you can tell me. Okay?”  
“Yes, very dear of you, Cindy” Caleo was saying. Ravus continued to stare away, exhausted already. “Thanks again. Say hi to Cid for me.”

With that and a few more goodbye phrases, Cindy returned to the workshop and Caleo walked down a few steps, where Ravus waited.  
“Apologies, Ravus. I didn’t mean to make you wait or anything” the Tenebraean, only then, decided to turn to look at him. “Cindy repaired a cane that she found among her stuff, in no time, can you believe it? That woman has some serious skills.”  
Ravus looked at him, face to face.  
And his heart skipped a beat.  
“It _is_ a great help, indeed” Caleo was saying. He quickly and distractedly passed a lock of his grey-brown hair behind his ear. “And it’s very comfortable. Not a burden or obstacle at all like I had thought.”

Ravus was staring at him eye-widened and the mouth slightly parted. He almost looked offended. After he had looked at the man, his heart had skipped a beat, had dropped to his feet, and had speeded up. He felt his blood boil not like usual, but a thousand, a million times more. It felt like pure fire through his veins, scrapping them, consuming him. His hatred…it was not just alive and burning, it was _screaming_. The instincts and desires within him that asked him to torture this man to death, they grew and, for a second, Ravus was at one blink of choking him right there and then.   
But _why!?_  
Why, why, why!? What was it? What was it about this man that made Ravus feel this much hatred, this much desire of blood, this necessity of sadism?  
And why, particularly in that moment, had it struck him like this?

“Anyway, I think we can go home now” the man said and gave him a friendly smile. “Perhaps you will accept dinner this time. I’m going to prepare something very nice for today, so you should consider it at least this once.”

Ravus’ blood continued to burn inside him. He could almost feel all his pores exhale poison and desperation. His hands were made tight fists as he tried to control them not to reach for the man and tear him into pieces. His anger, his hatred, having looked at Caleo in that moment had made them burn and grow so much in him that Ravus started sweating coldly out of the mere necessity to kill him, to hate him, to despise him.   
“I’m also very close to finishing the latest box” Caleo was saying with a smile. “Do you want to hear it? I think you will like it. It’s a Tenebraean melody. Come, I’ll show you.”  
And so, Scientia father started walking towards his house, thinking that Ravus was to follow behind, as he usually did instead of walking ahead or at his side.

Ravus stood in his place, with the heart speeding and pumping in his throat and the pores coldly sweating. Even his breath had become heavy out of the mere sudden hatred and anger that struck him like a million bolts.   
He turned and watched the man walk away. He watched him _limp_ away.

And that was when Ravus understood.

Suddenly, time turned a hundred times slower. It was like everything had turned white; every house and pebble and plant, it all had turned into a mere blank space, except for the man. Every step that Caleo took, it was five times slower than it was actually happening, ten times. And every step he gave, it echoed loudly in Ravus’ head, like a hammer hitting a giant bell in an empty space. His heart beat incredibly slow, almost threatening to stop in any moment. His head throbbed; a vein in his temple even popped out from the weight and shock of the realization. He breathed heavily and his blood, organs, and bones were all replaced by a dark purple flame of rotten hatred.

Of course. The thick but groomed beard. That face…so haggard. That the man looked ten years older than he really was. The hair, too grey for his age. Combed backwards and slightly to the sides. The hazel eyes. That eternally melancholic and sad look in them.   
The figure of that grey haired man, that looked so fragile. Dressed solely in black.  
With a limp on the right leg. Using a cane for it.  
That cane. That goddamn, cursed cane.   
Those looks.  
This man…

_Regis Lucis Caelum._

This man was the living portrait of one Regis Lucis Caelum. Former king of Lucis. Father of Noctis. Warrior prince on the war thirty years ago.   
And the reason of Ravus’ misery.

Ravus could crystal clear see him now that Caleo was giving him his back. Not showing his face, seeing him by behind, he could pass by the real king Regis. The face had differences, but seen from behind, and now that Caleo had a temporary limp…he was _identical_ to king Regis. Absolutely identical, even if just from behind. Ravus could see Regis there in the figure that was walking away.  
After all, Ravus had experience in watching that figure giving him his back, going away, leaving him behind.

Ravus, while the world still moved a hundred times slower and all he could hear was his own heavy breath, his head throbbing, and the agonizingly angering sound of Caleo’s cane and steps echoing like a giant’s steps, immediately reached to get a hold of the grip of his sword, prepared to unsheathe as fast as possible- only to not find his sword at his hips. He looked down, still in that adrenaline-fueled state of the mind, and saw the weapon was missing. Oh. Of course; he had started to leave it at his own house a couple weeks earlier, to repel the impulses of killing him.   
_I don’t care anymore; he’s the living image of Regis, and deserves to die._

Ravus panicked for a moment; he looked around as if though someone would be standing somewhere to offer him his rapier, but he found no one nowhere. He only stopped when his eyes saw Cindy watching him from the window. The woman was giving him that look of distrust, stronger now that he had just witnessed the man freak out in his spot after apparently having tried to unsheathe a weapon he thankfully did not have. Ravus, only when his eyes met hers, noticed the mistake he had done. Cindy had noticed. He had not been careful. 

It was now that he remembered he was being watched and in public and, hence, could not act this way, that he calmed down. At least enough to get out of that state of mind; speed, sound and sight returned to normal. Ravus’ feet were back on the ground. Fire still ran through his veins, but at least he was out of that strange state of blind anger and absolute shock. He still kept eye contact with her some moments, more nervous and agitated from the realization he had just had.   
Soon enough, he looked away, and forced his trembling legs to go after Caleo. He tried to control his breath, his heart, and his body, but every step weighted more than the previous one.  
It took great effort, more than Ravus had given in years, to just follow this man to his home. 

 

Regis Lucis Caelum.  
Following him, even after dead. Haunting him. Rubbing against his most sensitive heartstrings to remind him of his miserable life, about how the past twelve years of his existence had been but a torture, a burden of a life, tragedy after tragedy non-stop.   
Himself, cursed to see Regis Lucis Caelum invade his life over and over, and over. Ruining it. Destroying it further the already caused damage. Turning the debris to ashes, and the ashes to nothing. Over, and over, and over. _Even after dead._

And Ravus, always at his feet, always below him in hierarchy. Even after Regis was dead. Ravus, always forced to have the head under his sole. Even after fucking _dead._

\--

Ravus had seen king Regis many times in youth. As a child and young teen, Ravus had not only appreciated him, but had also looked up at him. Regis Lucis Caelum was the sort of king that Ravus wanted to be, even above his own father or mother.   
Tenebrae, harassed by the Empire like all the other countries, often lowered the head before them. Ravus knew that it was a wise and humble action; if one did as the bully said, the bully did not hit. It was a coward movement. But it was wise. Tenebrae was never in conditions and could have never stood a chance against the Empire; by lowering the head and letting the bully order him around and take lands and money from them, the former king of Tenebrae had kept his people and kingdom safe, if oppressed. 

King Regis, however, fought. There were Accordo had lost entirely against the Empire and where Tenebrae let them harass them, king Regis was fighting back in a way that Ravus admired, not because of the demonstration of rebellion and courage, but because it was in a very, very wise and smart way. Regis did not initiate attacks himself, unless it was to recover some lands, and it was always in the most precise moments. He mostly offered defense, and he was always making sure the war was much more strategic than brute forces and blood spills. King Regis presented defense in such a way that even when it was clear he was losing the war, he was telling the empire he was not afraid. The way king Regis acted was brave, but not reckless; full of courage, but wise, precise, just enough. 

King Regis was mending and repairing all the mistakes that King Mors had done, and even if surrounded by the Empire and losing the war, the kingdom of Lucis had been prosperous and happy during most of his reign. And highly respected.

Not to say he was an incredible person. Each time that a young Ravus had met him, king Regis had a gift for him, and not the expensive sort of gifts. He had given him books, which had initiated Ravus’ passion for literature. He had given him life lessons, humble toys when he was a child, or merely his friendly and playful presence. When the king visited, or when the Nox Fleuret had visited Lucis, Ravus could spend hours chasing and being chased by king Regis, yelping out, bursting in endless laughs. Regis always nursed him if the prince was hurt or sick, always cheered him up, and he was always so kind with him. 

And then he betrayed the Nox Fleuret. Ravus, particularly. 

King Regis was aware that the empire was after him and his son. King Regis _knew_ it. He was fully conscious that the empire was particularly after his son and himself, especially after the news that ran only among the royal circles that the prince had been chosen by the gods as the True King. Regis knew it, dammit, he _knew it!_ He knew the empire was following close, that they would be after him as soon as he put one foot outside the magic wall of Insomnia. He knew that the empire would try to kill him as soon as he was not within the walls.

And yet, he visited the Nox Fleuret. He did not only step out of Insomnia, he also went into Tenebrae, into Fenestala, and among the Nox Fleuret. Making of them the walls, walls that the empire could simply break through and destroy like the obstacles and non-important things they were, with the only goal of reaching Regis and his son. Those that did matter something, apparently.  
Despite knowing that the empire was coming with him, Regis Lucis had the audacity of stepping into Fenestala. And if he did, knowing that the empire was going to appear sooner or later in a non-friendly way, that was because he simply did not _care._

Let them all die, whatever. Right? What are the Nox Fleuret, anyway? Allies. Nothing more.   
All the play dates, all the gifts, all the care and band-aids and all the hugs and smiles. They all lost meaning to Ravus. After that event in Fenestala’s gardens, they all felt so _false_.   
It felt like King Regis had only wanted to keep him content as a political ally, and never truly cared for him like a friend or like a second son. Or like a _person._ Only that; a political ally that he had to keep happy with gifts and fake friendship.

Because a real friend would not have brought the enemy to his home. A real friend would not have brought destruction and mass murder to his home. A real friend would not have let his family die in front of him, would not have ruined his life.  
A real friend would not have run away to save himself, leaving him behind.

The Empire, of course, followed the king’s track to Fenestala, and they invaded aiming specifically for the Lucis Caelum. Ravus had already started to train for combat, but he was only sixteen, and the empire outnumbered them by a ridiculous quantity, not to speak about the absolute surprise. It was like the MTs and the mysterious General Glauca fell from the sky.  
It happened all so fast, too fast.  
Ravus being hit here, trying to run away there, being thrown down. Ravus, in a matter of seconds, half-thrown on the ground, watching his father being murdered at some scarce meters from him.   
And king Regis, running away with the Lucian prince in arms, and Lunafreya at his side.   
Leaving Ravus behind.

The first thing that Ravus thought was about his sister abandoning him; immediately after that, the sight of king Regis saving only his son and himself, not even caring to glance back, leaving him behind as easily, as simply, like Ravus was a thing that could not matter any less…it left him in shock.   
His sister then let go of king Regis’ hand. Only then the king looked back, but only towards her, never him. And even then he did not stop running.   
Ravus was hurt at the idea of his sister abandoning him, but he would have preferred that much more to seeing the king abandon her as well. She was only twelve. She was a child, a harmless, vulnerable little girl, that could have been easily murdered, saved perhaps literally only for being the next Oracle in the line.   
King Regis had cared only about his son and himself. Not only had he brought the destruction to his home, he had also left completely unharmed. Like one can go into someone else’s house, destroy everything, and leave, receiving no punishment.

And that was how he had ruined Ravus’ life; besides having killed his father, Regis had the empire finally take upon Tenebrae completely, officially, and legally. They were part of the empire too, without a single trace of independence. And even besides that, adding even more, Ravus’ personal life was ruined immediately afterwards.  
The teenager that was being raised as Tenebrae’s future heir was an obstacle. The kingdom needed no king anymore; Ravus was a danger. So the answer was, of course, to get Prince and Heir Ravus out of the way. Except he had potential, terribly amazing skills for combat.  
And of course that was an opportunity the empire did not want to miss.

Seeing in him the potential for the perfect human weapon, instead of killing him like his father, they took Ravus and teared his life and humanity apart. Taking the throne rights from him was step one; after that followed forcing him into joining the Niflheimian’s troops and army. They trained him, raised him as a soldier in the Nif style. Except five times the harder, five times the worse, ten times the crueler.   
“Training” was how he referred to it in front of Lunafreya and their mother. “Unnecessarily cruel torture” was more accurate. More than training him, they were exploiting his body, mind, and emotions past the limits that were beyond the limits, day after day after day, for the rest of his life. Not allowing him to sleep even three nights in a row for the sake of working out and training, multiple punishments both physical and psychological, torturing him with excuses about “making him behave”, there where Ravus knew that all they wanted was to torture him to the point where his mind would empty itself from any trace of humanity, so the empire could control him like a machine or one of their MTs.

Lunafreya had been the only thing that had kept him sane. Ravus feared to give any more burdens to their mother; his sister had given him no option. He had tried to keep it all a secret for her as well, but she had noticed. Because that was her: Lunafreya, so opposite to Regis, loved him sincerely, and knew how to ease his pain. She had not abandoned him. 

…and then King Regis happened again.

Seven years later, the king invited the Nox Fleuret to the treaty ceremony. His mother had said it was absolutely necessary, because her signature was a Must, and they, as heirs, had it as a Must to go with her as well.   
King Regis surely _knew_ that the treaty events would happen. Ravus did not; Lunafreya did not. But king Regis surely knew, like he had known back in his last visit to Fenestala.   
And even after he had brought the empire to their home and had ruined his life, he had the audacity to do it again, and take from Ravus what little he had left in his life. 

The treaty took the life of his mother, who got in the way to protect _him._ And even when Lunafreya lived…well, the rest is well known. 

King Regis had not ruined his life, he had taken it in hands, toyed with it, ripped it to pieces, set it on fire, and then spat on the ashes that were left of it. He had killed his father, and his mother, he had taken his sister away of him, his throne rights, his kingdom, and all his life. He had done worse than killing Ravus, he had killed his soul and heart while letting his body live. 

Nobody could question why Ravus hated Regis Lucis Caelum like he did.

\--

And now King Regis followed him, still haunted him even after dead, all those five years ago, manifesting himself through the one man that Ravus had been forced to follow and obey. 

Caleo Scientia. Stupid and weird failure of inventor, mathematician, former teacher, father of Ravus’ latest concern and obstacle, and Ravus’ reason of anger for the past almost two months by now. He had spent the past month and three weeks killing his own liver with all the hatred and anger that this man made him feel, not understanding why he made him feel those things.  
Until now. 

They were not identical, but all the things that Caleo had changed ever since Ravus started attending to him, from the beard to the cane, it was like he was trying to look as identical to Regis as possible on purpose. Like Caleo knew Ravus’ problem and wanted to annoy him on purpose. 

King Regis Lucis, thinking himself better than Ravus. Maybe he could have thought and actually been better than oblivious child Ravus. Maybe he was better than teen Ravus. Maybe he was even better than High Commander Ravus.  
But Regis was forgetting one thing.  
Ravus was now a king, too. 

He was the eldest of the Nox Fleuret that lived. He had gotten the highest military rank on Niflheim, so there was no one above him that could tell him no if he wanted to quit the country. The people that had taken the throne rights from him were all dead, like most of the empire.  
Ravus was king. His kingdom had forgotten him, his country was being run by a council, but that did not take away his royal blood, or the title, even if just as a concept. 

A king was no superior to another king. Regis had no right to look down on him, or to make fun of him this way. Not even after the grave; especially _not_ after the grave. 

 

Ravus followed Caleo Scientia home trying to control his breath and emotions. He felt as if though he had been induced some sort of drug; feeling dizzy, just stopping to sweat coldly, the heart pounding in his chest, and the legs trembling. Not every day one met the ghost of their worst enemy and greatest reason of hatred. 

Ravus tried to not look at him as he went upstairs. Even the leg that he had injured was the same that Regis could not use very well. Every time he looked at Caleo, especially if it was by behind, he saw Regis in him, and if he tried to close the eyes the image of Regis appeared imprinted in his eyelids, so he tried to not glance. Like the ghost in the closet of every children; if they don’t look that way, the ghost isn’t real. Caleo, like usual, was trying to earn friendly conversation from him, but that day more than any other Ravus not only did not get into it, but also refused to even glance his way.   
He felt…humiliated. He could not even look at this man without coldly sweating, like a scared kitten. It was humiliating enough when one thought of Caleo, and thinking about Regis only made it worse. 

Caleo continued to tell and ask him things as usual. Ravus did not listen, as lost in all the Regis memories and thoughts that he had tried to keep locked away for so long. He mechanically followed Caleo, not listening, not thinking about it, not seeing where he was going, entirely in auto-mode. That was how Ravus descended to the basement and realized only after he gave the last step and his feet were already on flat ground again.   
Still lost in the thoughts, breath still shaky, Ravus stared at his feet and felt ethereal, in a way that was more terrifying than beautiful at all. Like the world was unreal.

“…and it should be fixed, then” he heard Caleo say, whatever he had been talking about for so long by now. Ravus looked up at him, sight still strange. When his eyes found that figure in black and with the cane, he immediately saw Regis again; his heart skipped a beat as if threatening to stop, and he grew agitated again. “But I think that it won’t take me long.”

Ravus tried to stay still, tried to remember that this was not that one man. He looked similar, but he was not that…miserable failure of a self-called king. This was Caleo Scientia. He was not- and he could not be. That man was dead. Dead years ago, long gone, forsaken, incinerated, buried, whatever, but most definitely not alive. This was not him. 

The Tenebraean again forced himself out of his thoughts and looked at Caleo again, as if just to make sure it really was not that other man. He saw Scientia father nearby one of the tables, where his latest work waited. Caleo had grown quiet, into a silence that very quickly grew sad in the aura around him. He was looking at the music box like it was a photograph of his long-gone and beloved wife, with a smile that was terribly sad, but profoundly loving at the same time. Ravus tried to stay still. Caleo, on his part, kept smiling at the music box before he slowly lifted a hand and touched the lid with some trembling, careful fingertips. 

“You know, Ravus, I’ve been thinking” Caleo murmured. He looked at other music boxes around the table and the basement in general, finished and unfinished, painted and still halfway decorated. The way he looked around made Ravus’ heart stop for a second again. _Regis._ “About why I’ve been making so many boxes lately.”  
Ravus had tried to remind himself that this was Caleo Scientia, but all that he could see…dammit, the beard was identical, the same haircut, the same stupid eyes…  
 _King Regis._

 

“My son liked music boxes” he murmured with profound love and an even deeper sadness. _Liked, past tense._ “I think that that’s why.”

His son.   
_It’s always about his son._

Ravus could not help it. He did try to remind himself this was not the man that he hated, but his emotions overtook him. His blood worked as oil, Caleo’s words as the lit matchstick that did but set all of Ravus’ interior on fire, turn his veins into flames, and unleashing Ifrit’s hellfire within him. The Tenebraean frowned and glared at Regis, tried to control the heavy breath, and his upper lip twitched like a wolf ready to bite. 

“Your son” Ravus muttered. There was a pause, in which Caleo turned to look at him, rather surprised. If it was because of the hatred in Ravus’ low mutter or simply the fact that he had replied anything at all unlike usual, Ravus did not know and did not care. He continued to glare at him. “Your son. Your son this, your son that. It’s _always_ about your son, isn’t it?”  
Caleo blinked in surprise; he looked as if thought he wanted to say ‘Yes’, like it was obvious, but he knew the words were not what mattered as much as the way they were said. With an anger that he could not understand.  
“Your son; you don’t care about anything and anyone that isn’t your stupid son, right?” Ravus said much louder than before, glare intensifying. He started walking closer to the older man. “You are but a selfish creature that only thinks about himself and his son, not caring about anything or anyone else, aren’t you?” again, his voice had grown louder. Caleo took a step back by reflex as soon as Ravus stood in front of him, imposing, terribly tall and big. “The world could be going to hell, everyone could be getting tortured to death, but so long you and your _son_ are alright, whatever, right!? Because we don’t matter, only _you_ and your stupid son!”

Before Caleo could say anything else, Ravus grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up, forcing him to stand on tiptoes. A tiny and subtle whimper sounded in Caleo’s throat out of both surprise and fear.  
“Well, if you had loved your son as you’re always saying you do, he wouldn’t be in that goddamn castle as of now” Ravus said angrily. “If you had loved him, you wouldn’t have guided him straight to danger; if you had loved him, you wouldn’t have put him to risk…”  
After that, Ravus shook him by the grip he had on the man’s shirt and bent down so his face was a couple inches apart, eyes drowned and blinded in absolute rage.  
“If you had loved your son as you say you do” Ravus continued, “you would not have _abandoned_ him!” he snarled. “If you had loved your son, you would not have turned your back on him, you wouldn’t not have run away leaving him behind with the enemy!” he shook him harder. “You wouldn’t have given up on him!”

_Like you did in Fenestala._

“If you loved your son as you’re always crying you do” Ravus growled at him again, “then why did you abandon him like that!? Why!?”

Ravus shook him again. It took a while, as Caleo recovered from the shaking, from the startling surprise, from the sudden attack. He was looking up at Ravus with wide eyes. He did not look scared, but he did look surprised and alert. After he processed those words, however, his eyes turned completely to sadness, and he even dared lower the head.  
“…I- didn’t have a choice” Caleo whispered. Ravus’ hand on his clothes tightened and a little growl escaped the taller man. “I didn’t have a choice…” he repeated. “The enemy…was more powerful than the two of us together. There was nothing I could do. He- my son…I didn’t mean to bring him to danger…” Caleo lowered the head even more. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. How could I know?” there was a little pause. “The enemy was more than we could take. There was nothing I could do. I left him behind not because I wanted. It’s just that…I didn’t have a choice…”

_Of course. Excuses._

“You didn’t have a choice” Ravus growled. “And you call that love? Abandoning someone else to the enemy? Did you even try!?”  
“I’m telling you the enemy was more than any of us could take” Caleo looked up at him again. “Even if I tried, I would have just died.”  
“And wouldn’t that have been worth it!?” Ravus screamed loudly at him. “Wouldn’t that have been better than just leaving him behind!?” he shook the older man again, a bit too roughly. “Even if you didn’t stand a chance, you could have tried! If you love someone, you protect them, and if you can’t, you at least try; and if you perish, at least you’ll have perished protecting someone you love. That’s what love is, isn’t it!? You live together, or you die together, isn’t it!?” Ravus’ eyes suddenly covered in tears; noticing it made him angrier, and hence his voice louder. “If you love someone the less you can do is at least fucking _try_ , even when you know you don’t have a chance; how can you live knowing you didn’t even try, that you just turned your back on him and ran away, leaving him to his own mercy!?”

“Ravus” Caleo called very softly, moving the hands up to get a gentle grip of the younger man’s wrist and forearm. Ravus was so agitated he was even breathing heavily, but Caleo was behaving entirely calm. “Listen to me. I do love him.”  
“They why didn’t you-!?”  
“Because I couldn’t” Caleo murmured to him. “I would have tried. Trust me, I would have tried. But I couldn’t; I was not given the chance. Everything…happened too quickly. There was nothing I could have done, and there was not even the opportunity to try anything” Caleo looked at him with slightly tearful but sane eyes. “I would have given my life without hesitating, I really would. I’d have fought at his side, even with weak bones. I’d have given anything, I would have tried _everything_ , and I do would have died at his side…” he exhaled shakily. “But I wasn’t even given the chance to try. They took and forced me away. I didn’t try because I _couldn’t._ ”  
Ravus tried to argue that back.  
But he found no comeback. 

He only stood there, eyes furiously scanning every inch of the man’s face. Without a reply, Ravus only kept his fist on the man’s shirt and the frown did but deepen. Anger fueled even more by having no reply and feeling he was losing an argument with king Regis, Ravus growled again and got back into arguing.  
“You’re but a traitor” Ravus muttered. “You say you weren’t given a chance, but what about after you were forced away? You didn’t try to get back into the castle, right?” as if feeling on the lead again, Ravus’ voice and anger came back. “You could have tried, then! You _had_ a chance, you had many chances, but did you take any!? Did you do anything to try and save him!? You could have gotten back in the castle, but you didn’t!” he screamed. “All you’re saying are lies to cover the fact that you’re a coward and a traitor. You _had_ your chance, and let it go; preferred to leave him to his own luck, and victimize yourself so everyone pities you and forgets about him. Whatever about him, right? He’s not your burden anymore, so who cares what happens to him, right!?”

“Ravus, you are mistaken” Caleo said surprisingly calm for one that was being as roughly shaken and so loudly screamed at. He took a pause in which he did but look at Ravus to the eyes as if waiting for him to properly calm down, at least enough to listen. “Yes. I could have run back into the castle” Ravus tensed again and glared at him as if asking ‘and why did you not?’. Caleo waited a few seconds again before continuing. “And that would have gotten both of us dead. I know that you think that love is we fight together, or we die together, but that’ s not it” before Ravus replied and interrupting the younger man as he had already opened the mouth, Caleo hurried, “love is, we do what’s wiser to keep each other safe, even if that means we have to be separated.”  
“That makes no sens-!”  
“If I had gone back into the castle” Caleo interrupted him again, “the beast would have been angered; it would have killed him first, and then me. And while the idea has been romanticized, to die together, it truly works for nothing.”

Ravus, again, seemed as if offended and ready to argue that. Scientia father stole the word from him yet again.  
“So long there’s life, there’s hope” Caleo said. Ravus, a bit startled from this, untensed a bit and his eyes furiously scanned him, as if not understanding. “So long there’s life, there’s hope. If I had gone back inside, we would both be dead. Leaving was securing both of our lives; I don’t know if he’s still alive, but there’s at least a chance, as small as it may be. If I had returned, there would have been none, and my boy would have been killed.”  
Ravus stayed quiet, teeth clenching and jaw tense, but quiet.   
“And it secured my life, at least” Caleo continued. “That way, I live. So long I live, I have endless opportunities to save my son. Or avenge him. But letting myself be killed, as beautiful as it may have been, would have been a waste. No chances to save him, no chances to avenge him, no chances for anything. Dying is the easiest answer, always. No, Ravus; I decided to _live_. I left my son behind first because I had no option, and then I didn’t return because it was the wisest choice for both of us.”

Caleo caressed Ravus’ hand and wrist with his hands, gently, a fatherly touch that took Ravus off-guard and made his hand spasm slightly under the touch.   
“Sometimes, Ravus” Caleo murmured, “when you leave someone behind, it’s not because you don’t care or don’t want to try. Sometimes you have to leave someone behind today, only to gather strength to go back for them tomorrow, stronger than before, better prepared to face the obstacles and enemies in between.”  
Ravus untensed so much even his frown relaxed, but he did not switch to calm as much as he switched to confusion. Troubled, he stared down and his mouth parted.  
“You’re not abandoning someone forever” Caleo said. “You’re just getting stronger to come back for them and be strong enough to protect them as necessary.”

“…but he doesn’t know that” Ravus muttered. “All that Ignis sees- all that he knows is that you ran away.”  
“But that won’t stop me” Caleo said. Ravus had almost let go of his shirt by that point. “Ignis can think about me whatever he wishes to think. He can see in me a coward, a traitor. He can think that I ran away, and that I’m not trying to get him back. That won’t stop me.”  
“Why not?” Ravus looked back up at him, once more in anger. “He hates you. That should fuel _your_ hatred for him too.”  
Caleo, surprisingly, chuckled at him. It did but turn Ravus’ anger back into confusion.  
“He can hate me if he wishes, despise me even” Caleo murmured. “But I love him. I don’t love him because he loves me. I love him no matter what he feels back for me. He could think me a traitor, he could hate me with his soul. He can falsely think I’m not fighting to get him back. I’d still do it; it’s not about him knowing what I’m doing for him, it’s just about doing it, for him. Because love is not to give what you get, but to give. No expectations.”  
“Isn’t it unfair?” Ravus started asking, but did not dare continue. 

_Isn’t it unfair? That you’re breaking your back to save him from the trouble you put him in, he doesn’t know it, he hates you because he thinks you’re not trying, and you still do, even when he doesn’t know?_

Maybe it was exactly what had happened with-

“No” Ravus snorted, reining his own thoughts. “No” he repeated louder and looked back at Caleo again, fist once more tightening on the grip on the older man’s clothes and frown deepening. “You’re not- you’re not gathering any strength to go back and save him” Ravus growled at him through clenched teeth. “Look at yourself! You say you didn’t abandon him, that you’re just waiting to have strength enough to go back someday, but look at yourself!” he yelled, shaking him. “Music boxes? Is that how you’re planning to save him? Are those part of your plan?” he snorted like an angered bull. “You’re not trying to save him, you’ve been doing _nothing_ for the past months, all you’ve been doing are those stupid, pathetic, useless music boxes!”

As he screamed that, he pushed Caleo backwards, but followed to get a grip of him again. The man did not offer any resistance.  
“You’re not gathering any strength, you’re not making any plan, you’ve just been sitting here building these fucking boxes!” he continued screaming. “You’re just…trying to make up an excuse. Saying you do are planning to save him, that you didn’t abandon him, covering it up behind ‘I’m just waiting for a better moment’, pretending you’ll go back for him one day, but you’re _not_ ” Ravus’ voice lowered, piercing with hatred. “You’re just making these… _stupid_ …boxes. You’re not trying and you never tried _anything._ ”   
“Did I not, Ravus?” Caleo asked him, voice louder than before, but nowhere close to screaming as Ravus had been doing for most of what he had been saying. “Did I really not try? Am I not trying?” Caleo scanned him with the eyes once, looking more surprised than offended. “Am I not tagged as mentally insane by the entire town precisely because I tried?”

Ravus’ upper lip twitched and his frown deepened, as if feeling threatened.   
“Did I not go to seek help with the Healer? Did I not try to talk with the townsguards? Did I not try to talk with Aranea?” Caleo continued. “I’ve been trying, Ravus. I _do_ have been trying; that Ignis doesn’t know that, that it hasn’t worked, it’s not on me. I _have_ tried; that no one has supported me and that nothing has worked so far doesn’t mean I haven’t tried” he lowered the head, but, unlike other times, he did not look scared or vulnerable. He looked, his own way, if fragile, rather firm. “I _have_ been trying Ravus, all these months I’ve been doing but trying over, and over, and over, and over, here and there, in this way, or another, I’ve been trying _always_ to do something. That nothing has-” he paused and sighed tremblingly. “That nothing has worked, and that no one has wanted to listen to me, it doesn’t mean I haven’t tried. I just haven’t succeeded” Caleo looked up at Ravus again, slightly frowning. “I tried. But no one listens. You can try but if no one is willing to listen and help, can you blame me for failing?”

“Of course I can!” Ravus screamed at him. “If you really want something, you’ll fight for it even if it’s alone!” he paused to growl before talking again. “None of this-! None of this would have even happened in the first place if you hadn’t-! If you hadn’t left him in the hands of the enemy!” Ravus’ voice did but increase, as mirror to the anger that ran through his veins. “You’re a traitor, you’re a failure, and you’re a liar! If you loved him, you wouldn’t have led him to that place! If you led him there, but if you had loved him, you wouldn’t have abandoned him! And if you abandoned him, but loved him, you would be _trying_ , each hour of the day, every day of the week, every week of the _year_ , with no rest, with no breaks, with all that’s in your power” he paused to breathe only once. “He was taken from his normal life, maybe from his life as itself, because of _you!_ You’ve done _nothing_ but abandon him to his luck, you’ve done _nothing_ but ruin his life over, and over, and over, and _over!_ You call yourself his father, but all you’ve done each time you appear in his life is _ruin it!”_

Ravus’ eyebrows tightened, like the rest of his frown.  
“Why can’t you see that!? Why do you insist on appearing in our lives when all you do is ruin it and wreck it further each bloody time!?” Ravus shook him at times as if to give emphasis to some words. “Why do you insist on getting in the way!? Why haven’t you done, why can’t you do a single thing right, just for bloody _once!?”_ Ravus was screaming as if trying to rip his own throat, drowned in wrath. “Why don’t you realize that all you do only does but cause harm to others!?”

Ravus pulled him closer and he reached down, glare piercing into Caleo’s eyes with poison.  
“You’re better off _dead.”_  
As soon as the last word left his mouth, Ravus looked away and felt a pinch in the heart, unexpectedly. For a second, he regretted having said that. The next second, he felt a sudden sadness. On the third second and with no stop or change afterwards, all that he felt was a bitter taste in the tongue and that burning anger within him, not growing nor decreasing.  
That was what traitors deserved, right? Death. Even if you once had loved them. _Especially_ if you had once loved them…

“No, Ravus” Caleo said softly. “You’re wrong.”

The Tenebraean looked up at him again, a bit startled from how firm Caleo sounded; he had spoken lowly, but had not needed to change that to sound incredibly secure. Both men spent some moments looking at each other, the taller one still keeping the other gripped by his shirt. Caleo, as firm as he looked, also looked incredibly sad. Little by little, as seconds went, he started looking sadder and sadder. After some moments, with Ravus still tense and breathing rather heavier than normal, Caleo lowered the head again.  
“…I do…am aware that- I’ve done multiple mistakes” Caleo murmured. “I know that all I’ve done is but harm. I know I’m- I know I’ve always been an obstacle. That when I try to help I make it worse. That all I’ve done is ruin his life, over and over” he closed the eyes, looking profoundly ashamed. “I do know that I’ve never done anything right. But it’s precisely because of that that I’m not better off dead.”

Once with that said, Caleo looked up at the younger man, eyes covered in a thin layer of tears, but gaze firm.  
“I told you; dying is _always_ the easiest answer” Caleo said. “It’s so easy; you die and leave everyone else to their luck. No more troubles. And all the mistakes you’ve done, left for someone else to fix, while you’re free from all that and everything. No, Ravus. Dying is _too easy_. Especially for someone that has done so many mistakes.”  
Ravus’ eyes, like whenever he had been taken off guard across the argument, scanned his face again, as if looking for something on it that he couldn’t find.  
“I’ve done too many awful things, Ravus. So many mistakes” Caleo lamented. “But dying would be useless. I’d have been on this earth just to wreck things and leave. When you make mistakes, you fix them, or at least you try to do it.”

There was another pause, in which Caleo looked away for a moment, the wall of tears in his eyes thickening.   
“…I’ve-“ he paused, as if to control himself and not cry. “…I…know. I know very well…that so many horrible things have happened because of me. I know that I’ve caused so many tragedies and accidents. I know I’ve ruined other people’s lives…” he took in a shaky breath. “But I never meant to. And I know that I’ve made unwise choices, that I’ve messed things up, that I haven’t been…the wisest or the best of fathers, or friend, or husband, or person at all…” he looked down. His hands softened their grip on Ravus’ wrist. “…I know all of that, Ravus.”

He kept the eyes down and seemed to be slightly overwhelmed by feelings for a few seconds before he could manage to speak again.  
“I know I’ve done wrong so many times, Ravus” Caleo murmured. “But that’s just because…from above all titles or names, even though I’m a father, and a teacher, and a mathematician, and an inventor, truth is…”  
The man with the whitening hair and beard looked up at him.  
“I’m a human, Ravus” the king said. “I’m just a man. I’m not- an expert. Nobody taught me to play my roles; nobody plays their role to perfection” he maintained eye contact. “I’m human, Ravus, and I make mistakes.”

The Tenebraean’s heart skipped a beat. The picture of Regis flashed where Caleo stood, replacing him for a second, and Ravus’ fist tightened but trembled.   
“We all make mistakes” Caleo continued. “And I won’t make excuses for them. I’ve made mistakes and the only thing I can do about it is try to fix them.”  
“…there are mistakes” Ravus hissed, lowly, like a snake about to bite “that cannot be fixed. What will you do, then? Huh? Walk away and pretend they didn’t happen?”  
“In that case” Caleo replied, as firmly if very quiet as he had been doing so far, “when I can’t fix a mistake I’ve done, I…” he sighed.  
“What about the mistakes that cannot be fixed!?” Ravus screamed at him, shaking him violently as if hurrying him.

Caleo waited a second while he recovered from being shaken.  
“In that case…if what I’ve done is beyond repair…” Caleo’s voice was low and broken.   
And then, the man of the always melancholic hazel-green eyes made eye contact with him.  
“The only thing I can do is say…‘I’m sorry’.”

Ravus’ heart skipped a beat, and something inside him similar to a tense string broke.  
By reflex, he pushed Caleo back with brute force, took a step close again, and threw the fist towards him with every bit of strength that he had in his body. Caleo let out a muffled yelp when Ravus’ fist collided with his cheek. The strength put into the hit made Caleo immediately fall to the floor as violently as he had been pushed, after having collided with a nearby table. Ravus still stormed his way towards him, but stopped midways, like a force much stronger than himself was holding him back and put his entire body to tremble. Knocked out, Caleo laid on the floor nearby him, and Ravus had the desire to get closer and stomp on his face, break his ribs, get rid of this man for once. But that invisible force kept him held back, unable to do anything that wasn’t stare and shake.

The impact with the table had made the music boxes on it stumble; one that had been pushed to the edge due to Caleo’s impact on it let gravity finish the job, and it fell to the ground, which caused it to start playing its tune; incoherently sweet, if a little sad, in such a tense scenario.  
And, in a snap, like it abandoned him along that punch, all of Ravus’ anger disappeared. By the time he noticed, the tears that covered his eyes and the way his body violently trembled, none of that had any to do with anger. It felt closer to frustration, similar, but not quite the same. Even closer to-  
Ravus contained a sobbing sound that ended up echoing like a whimper in his throat, at the time he looked to a side and closed the eyes, trying to control himself. While he stood there, fists closed and teeth clenching so hard he was sure he would end up destroying his own teeth, Caleo’s much smaller body started weakly moving in the spot.   
It took a long pause, the music box playing, while Caleo recovered senses. Slowly, very slowly, he managed to pull himself up on his hands, whimpering very quietly as he did.

Once standing the weight on a hand, the other tried to touch his own face, but he hissed at the contact. The pause lingered, and Ravus was first to make a sound, letting out an angry exhale, though similar to a sob.  
 _”I’m sorry_ ” he said. _I’m sorry?_ Is that- is that… _really_ …all that you can do!?” Ravus paused again to once more close the eyes, hissing and reining in the tears. What was this? What was it with the sudden urge to cry, and why could he not hold it back? “I’m sorry? You go and- fuck somebody’s entire _life_ up, and _all_ that you can do- _all_ you will do about it…is say ‘I’m sorry’!?”

Caleo did not reply. He continued to pull himself up as best as he could, a hand carefully touching his lips and moving away so he could look at it, and the pool of blood on his fingers. The stupid music box was still playing, exasperating the Tenebraean’s patience.  
“Is that how you’re expecting to fix something as terrible as what you’ve done?” Ravus asked him, intended to have come out as a scream, but it came out in a normal volume, if at least drenched in hatred. “You basically-“ Ravus stopped and bit down on his lip, but he exhaled tremblingly and spoke again. “You…destroyed and ruined an entire life, you’ve caused harm so great it’s beyond any repair, and that’s how you plan to fix it? By saying ‘I’m sorry’, and that’s it?”

The Tenebraean closed the eyes again and sighed with exasperation, not as much towards the man as it was due to the tears in his eyes. No matter how hard he closed the eyes and how much he repressed it, tears kept coming to them, and his eyes insisted on itching.   
“…no.”  
The music box stopped playing.  
Taken off-guard by having gotten any reply when he was expecting none, Ravus looked up and towards the man again, mouth open.   
Caleo was half-sat half-thrown on the floor, standing part of his weight on a forearm, while the other hand stayed nearby his injured mouth and cheek. He was looking at his hand as it kept cleaning more and more of the blood that came from his mouth non-stop, and he was trembling as violently as Ravus. Still, he looked incoherently calm when he looked up at the younger man.  
“…you said it- yourself…” Caleo spoke tremblingly and weakly. His voice was muffled from all the blood that swam in his mouth. “…it is…beyond any…repair…” he put the head down to spit, and a shy whimper sounded in his throat. “…saying sorry is not…so I can fix it…”

Ravus looked at him and grew a bit angered again. He walked towards Caleo and went down on a knee in front of him; even then, Ravus looked imposing, and he still was taller than Caleo, who barely stood half of his weight on a forearm. After a silence, Ravus once more took him by the shirt; the action and the discomfort in his mouth made Caleo involuntarily whimper and hiss. The Tenebraean looked at him with pale, piercing eyes.  
“Then _what is the point?”_ Ravus asked in a bitter and toxic murmur. “If it’s not to fix the unfixable, what is the point of saying sorry?”  
The question had not been asked expecting for any answer, rather only to attack. Caleo stayed quiet, able to only shakily breathe while Ravus glared at him. 

However, Caleo was only gathering strength enough to take in a breath before giving the younger man an answer.  
“…saying sorry fixes nothing” Caleo murmured. Once more, like before Ravus had thrown him away, Caleo removed his hand from his own face to gently laid it on Ravus’ wrist. This time, however, it was different; moments earlier, when both were up on their feet, Caleo had attempted to make Ravus let go. This time he only laid the hand there, gently. Reassuring. _Comforting._ The sensation took Ravus off guard and made his frown soften. The hazel-green eyes looked at his uneven ones. “Saying sorry is just so that the other person knows that…what I did, the results…they were neither my goal nor intention…”

The Tenebraean stayed quiet, not loosening the grip he had on the man’s shirt.  
“Saying sorry is not asking them to forgive me, because I don’t expect them to do it” Caleo lowered the head, but his voice sounded even more firm than before. “But saying sorry is giving them that offer. Whether they forgive me or not, that’s their choice. But saying I’m sorry, at least, gives them that option…”  
Once more, he looked up at Ravus with gentle, sad, and teary hazel eyes.  
“…but that’s not the main concern” Caleo whispered. Ravus’ heart, once more, skipped a beat and it felt strange inside him; he suddenly had the sensation that he was for real getting a heart attack this time, and he had been about to let go of the older man, but didn’t. His frown, however, turned to a softer one of confusion, and his body trembled in hesitation. “Saying sorry fixes nothing, but…I believe that it helps people to not fall into darkness, to stay in the light. You know…by not letting hatred grow roots in their heart” Caleo gave him a sad smile. “And maybe, with that light, they can see that I really did not mean to. And maybe then, with their hearts at peace, they can forgive me. And even if they don’t, at least _they_ will be at peace.”

Ravus stayed quiet, staring at the man. The way Caleo held his wrist was gentle and had no intention of getting the younger man off him. Not by force, at least. It was like he was trying to calm Ravus’ anger. The Tenebraean stared at him only some moments more before lowering both head and eyes. And, not knowing very well why, maybe because this was possibly the last time he saw Caleo Scientia and he had to leave everything in order and clarified, or maybe triggered by seeing the gentle way Caleo held his wrist, Ravus dared ask him something that he had been keeping in for too long.  
“…why do you insist on being nice to me?” Ravus muttered through clenched teeth, and while he tried to look up to glare into the man’s eyes, he could not lift the head. “All this time, I’ve treated you like scum. I’ve insulted you, ignored you, I’ve been rude and even cruel with you. I’ve screamed at you. I just hit you and knocked you out, and you’re bleeding because of my fault” Ravus paused for a moment while he gathered strength again to look up at him, once more frowning, but voice remaining a mutter. “Why do you, even after all that I’ve done and said, still insist on treating me like a friend? Why do you insist on treating me with kindness when all I’ve done is but abuse of you?”

Caleo looked at him with almost surprised eyes, like he was expecting everything but that question. Then, he started smiling, and he gave a low, sad chuckle as he lowered the head for a moment. The pause lingered quite a while, but before Ravus lost his patience Caleo took in a breath to talk.  
“Ravus” he called softly, “there is no point in fighting fire with fire.”  
The Tenebraean’s frown softened noticeably, and he looked at the older man with confused but soft eyes, like he had just been revealed a secret of life. Caleo gave him a sad smile and stared down for a moment.  
“…you’re hurt, aren’t you?” Caleo murmured with a different voice, a bit sadder than before. Ravus’ eyebrows furrowed very slightly, more in confusion than anger. “You lost someone, too. You- told me in an outburst. For five years. That must be very hard…I’ve been away of my boy for four months and three weeks, and I feel as if though I’ve been living with a void in the core of my soul itself…”

The younger man was too speechless, taken too off-guard, to do anything else but stare at the other. Even though he still kept Caleo’s shirt in a grip, the older man did not seem any scared.  
“I can’t imagine how you must be suffering” Caleo murmured with such a great sincerity that it did but startle Ravus even more. “And I believe maybe you’ve never given yourself or have never had the chance to cry it, have you? Watching me mourn every day for my four months and three weeks, like you haven’t been allowed to in five years…I really don’t question why you hate me so much…”  
Ravus blinked and took in a silent, subtle gasp, only then realizing that he had never thought about such a thing…and yet, it sounded quite…real.  
“You’re very hurt, Ravus” Caleo murmured again. “You’re very hurt, and the pain has put you in the dark. I don’t really mind that you hate me, because I understand that you don’t mean to cause any of this harm; you’re just…lost. You need somewhere to vent your pain on, and if it’s me…then, so be it” the older man looked up at him and smiled at him despite the tears and the bruise on his cheek. “At least, that way, I can be useful for something for once…”

Caleo sighed tremblingly, with a Ravus that was only more and more confused with every word. More than confused, the agitation he felt inside the more Caleo talked…it felt similar to fear, but he could not explain fear of what.   
“You’re lost in the dark, Ravus, and all I wish to do is bring you back to the light, somehow” Caleo explained. “You only need a little recovery. And that I cannot get through hatred. I think…that the person that’s been so rude and cruel with me…I think that that’s not who you really are. I don’t know how to explain it, I just… _feel_ it. I _sense_ that that’s not _you”_ once more, he made eye contact and gently caressed Ravus’ wrist through the sleeve of his coat. “I think that you’re a very kind soul, Ravus. You just…need some understanding. Patience. Somewhere to cry, maybe. But understanding, mostly, and lots of patience. I’ve been…trying. I’m not very good at…anything, but…” Caleo gave him one of his sad smiles. “…but I’ve been trying. And I will continue to try.”

Ravus’ grip on his shirt had softened very noticeably. If he still kept the man’s shirt in his fist, that was because he had yet not noticed he was still holding it. Ravus stared at his face as he stared at nowhere at all at the same time. His eyes were behind a very thick layer of tears, and his body was untense. All that rage that had fueled him…all of it, turned into a freezing, numbing sadness.   
This man was hitting spots in his heart that Ravus did not know that he had. It felt threatening.   
“…I don’t know who you lost, Ravus” Caleo murmured, as tenderly as before. “And I don’t know if someone or something caused it. But…” he took in a quiet but deep breath, and slowly let it out. “In behalf of whoever, or whatever did it, I just want to say…”

King Ravus blinked quickly and, as if not believing it was about to happen, he focused again on the man before him.  
With his always melancholic hazel-green gaze, and a sad expression on his haggard face, King Regis looked at him.  
“I’m sorry, Ravus.”

There was silence. Thick, heavy silence.  
Like it had broken a dam, without needing him to blink, two tears rolled down each of Ravus’ cheeks very quickly, and the sound of them hitting the floor was the only thing that sounded for a moment.  
And then he cried another pair, and another pair a few seconds later.   
Ravus kept wide eyes on the older man, not moving, not blinking, and not breathing. Tears escaped him without him being conscious of any of them.  
Caleo could only offer that sad and sincerely sympathetic gaze. 

After quite a while, Ravus forced himself out of his shock, blinked and noticed the strange heat on his face, result of the tear paths on his cheeks. They burnt as if instead of tears he had acid, and each drop that rolled down his face did but harm. He tried to stop, but found it to be impossible. He even sniffled, once.  
He swallowed, lowered the head and his eyes looked around as if feeling suddenly too lost. To his own frustration, he sniffled again, and even, by reflex, used his free hand to clean his slightly runny nose and the tears on his face, even though they were replaced by new ones. Caleo was looking at him with sadness and understanding, but Ravus did not dare look at him to the eye more than one second. 

He tried to look at him, but whenever he looked at the terrible bruise on the man’s cheek or his bloody mouth, Ravus felt more than just a pinch in the lungs. It was like a chain squeezed his heart, and made him feel…guilt. Unexpectedly. He swallowed and tried to think of what to do; should he say something? Do something? Did he have to bring ice for his bruise? Was that unpolite? Did he have to thank him for saying sorry? Was that correct?  
What and why did it hurt like this inside him, and why couldn’t he stop the tears?   
Ravus’ head and heart were a mess.   
He felt inside as if though the stone that he had built around his heart had been hit, it had cracked, and now it was breaking into pieces; Ravus did not feel a good sensation because the heart was free now. He only felt that it _hurt._

And he felt…so…vulnerable…  
So lonely.  
So little.  
So scared…  
So…vulnerable, more than anything.

He let go of Caleo’s shirt and moved the hand back, as if not sure if where to place it now. Caleo stayed half-thrown where he was, head slightly down. He looked fragile…and he needed help. He needed someone to help him stand back up, someone to help him with the wound. Ravus’ hands, trembling slightly, moved towards him, froze a second later, hesitated, and he sniffled again. Hesitating and feeling completely insecure, like he had just woken up from amnesia in an entirely unknown place, Ravus felt lost and was not sure what to do.   
All that he did was to continue crying a bit. Sniffling timidly, trying to stop the tears by cleaning them, and only finding more of them.  
In the end, he stood up. He still gestured as if to help the man in front of him, but all he did was take a step back, freeze, cry a little more in absolute silence, and then another step backwards.

Ravus looked at the man thrown on the floor, who looked up at him as if asking him ‘What now?’ The Tenebraean still hesitated and bent down an inch, ready to help this man up on his feet, but he suddenly felt…too scared. And confused.   
So, instead, he started going backwards a few steps, and then headed for the staircase. He stopped only once, but forced himself to not look back. It took struggle and long pauses, but, eventually, Ravus forced himself upstairs.

From his spot, trying to push himself up on his feet, Caleo heard the sound of the door upstairs. It really did not startle him or saddened him. He did feel a little abandoned, but he was very glad that Ravus had decided to leave.

The young man really did need to adapt to an open heart, after so many years of it hiding under stone and ice. It was not something one adapted to in a blink; he needed to process it. So if he needed to leave, then so be it. 

It took Caleo a bit of effort to stand up, mostly with the leg injury and being so far from the cane, but he managed it fine on his own. He picked up the music box that had fallen from the table, he started winding the key, and then left it back on its place to hear it begin playing its tune, happy to see that it still worked. 

Caleo cleaned the dry tears on his face and slowly, with effort, he started heading for the stairs, ignoring the encounter of kings that had just happened in his basement, and listening to the music box still playing the sweet and sad melody of a pair of broken hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like always, thank you for reading this story and not dropping it this far. 
> 
> Each of you, readers, are a treasure to me.
> 
> Thank you. I hope you're enjoying. ♡


	26. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> I am so profoundly sorry I took so long!
> 
> I had medical complications in real life and required of surgery, and coming and going plus physical and emotional recovery really took a while. Don't worry, I'm okay and everything went fine!! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story. It really means a lot to me that you're still reading... :')
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

“You’ve got it now, Prompto?”

“Just a minute more, I swear.”

Ignis could not help a little smile. He tried to stay still and not start looking at other things and keep the same pose. He tugged slightly at the collar he was wearing; at first it had been bearable, but after such a long while among so many candles, he was starting to feel hot.   
“Stay still, Specs!” he was nagged when Prompto caught him pulling the collar and moving the head. The man let go and returned to his original position. Even though he slightly rolled the eyes, he could not help but feel a bit amused. In some way, even when it was about staying still and do nothing, in non-practical clothing, and surrounded of candles that had started to take their effect on him, he was having fun. It was amazing, and something that, he discovered, only a few creatures like Prompto or Noctis could get; to get him to do nothing, and still have fun somehow. 

The man contained a sigh in his chest and stared at the rectangle set on the table. He liked to guess from which of the three available sides Prompto would sneak from; left, right, or up. Ignis mentally cursed when he was mistaken, and mentally celebrated when he made the right guess. It was sort of amusing, watching that little metal face with a wax top (like a funny hat) pop out from behind that square, giving him a stare, and then disappear again. Prompto had quite a variety of expressions, Ignis discovered; sometimes he was smiling calmly, sometimes he was dead serious like the man hadn’t expected from such a happy creature, sometimes he had a very fierce look on his face that spoke of someone passionate for what they were doing. Yet, there was always that hint of joy. It made Ignis feel his heart light; Prompto was a very pure creature, he really deserved to enjoy of life as he was doing in moments like these.

That was one of the reasons Ignis had not dared move from his spot, despite having spent the past two hours there; he simply didn’t have the heart to say no to Prompto, even less when it was about what the candelabra enjoyed the most of, and when he looked so into it.   
Truth be told, Ignis had been about to, multiple times, tell him they could continue some other day, and leave.   
“Why, you gotta be somewhere?” Prompto had asked just the day before, when Ignis, rather impatient and a bit anxious to be honest, had asked him if he was still going to take much longer. Ignis had not known how to respond at first, because Prompto was half-serious, half-joking, but Ignis couldn’t catch what the candelabra’s real feelings were, and he didn’t want to cause any misunderstandings.  
“It’s not that I need to be somewhere” Ignis had replied. “It’s just that I…have never stayed still for this long.”  
“Ignis, it’s only been an hour.”

Ignis had snorted softly.  
“You say that like staying still for an hour is normal.”  
“You say _that_ like _not_ staying still for an hour is normal.”  
Ignis had frowned slightly at him, more in confusion than any anger, and tried to come up with a response but he went empty in the head. Prompto had made fun of him in a friendly way for “losing the argument”, and they changed subject later on. Ignis had spent that night and random moments across the next few days thinking about it. He was aware that he could not stay still but it hadn’t crossed his head that it wasn’t normal. Was he some sort of maniac? Did he look and behave like that, really? Was it normal to sometimes…do _nothing?_

Ignis still didn’t have the answers. He felt too shy, and a little embarrassed, to bring the question up with anyone. He didn’t want to find out he had been looking like a frantic maniac to everyone the past months.   
Did he…give that impression of a madman to Gladiolus, too?   
Ignis felt his cheeks tickling slightly; oh gods no, what if Gladio thought him a maniac? And why did Ignis care so much anyway?  
Maybe Ignis should make friends more often. That way, whenever he would make a new one, he wouldn’t care _this much_ about what they thought of him. 

Ignis tugged at the collar of his shirt again; goddammit, this was uncomfortable. Or maybe he just was not used to such…non-peasant clothing.   
“Speeeecs!” the candelabra whined after a good while with Ignis moving a little too much in his spot.   
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” the man rushed and tried to return to his original position. “Perhaps we should really wash this shirt now. I’ve been putting it on everyday for this, so, even if little by little, dirt builds up, you know.”  
“There you go again” the candelabra said with an amused smile as he poked from behind his hideout while not stopping his work. “You never stop, eh? Always coming and going working everywhere on everything. We should call you Ignis the Bullet Scientia!”

Ignis grinned and snorted a ghost of a laugh. For a moment he wondered how it was that Prompto knew the word ‘bullet’; guns, while not the newest invention, were not your everyday weapon either. Ignis decided to not give it much thought; he always thought too much about this sort of unimportant stuff.  
“Relax, Specs” the candelabra said from his spot. “See, we’re done for today, buddy!”  
“Thank gods” Ignis sighed jokingly. The candelabra gave a little laugh in response.

Smiling, the man blew the candles off. He usually just pressed the flame with a pair of fingertips (dry, like he had done since he was a child), but he felt too lazy for this quantity of candles, so blowing was quicker and easier. Once they were off, he reached for the curtains and pulled them all the way to the sides; he heard Prompto whine in the background at the sudden cascade of light that poured inside. Ignis too had to put a hand in front of his face and felt momentarily blinded. He was aware that it was morning and the sun would be up, but the change felt a bit too drastic.   
Ignis started untying the high collar of the shirt he was wearing as he approached the table Prompto was at, this time from the other side.

And so, Ignis stared at the canvas that was holding the soon-to-be portrait of Ignis himself.   
Both stayed quiet; Prompto was smiling joyfully and seemed to expect some reaction, but he was staring at the painting too. Ignis was staring at the canvas and did not move his eyes off it, hands mechanically untying the collar, and with a big smile on his face.  
“It’s going _brilliantly,_ Prompto” Ignis said lowly. “I can’t believe you’ve gotten this much in just a few days.”  
“Yeah, well…” the candelabra laughed both nervously but happily, one of his candle-hands ‘scratching’ the back of his ‘head’. “I’ve- had a lot of time to practice, so I’ve got a hang of this already!” Prompto looked back at the canvas. “And it’s still rather shapeless. It’s more like a splatter of colors right now, don’t you think?”  
“Well, not really” Ignis said as he let go of the now untied collar and started undoing the lace of the tight vest he was wearing. “You don’t see it because you’re the artist, but I, as your humble viewer, can see more of it. See, the shape of my face is already here…” Ignis pointed with a finger. “And I can see my hair. I can see myself already there. It’s just a matter of adding some more, painting this side, some color here, and details and- that’s it.”

The candelabra let out a playful ‘N’aw’.  
“You’re just being nice, now!” the candelabra said and pushed Ignis’ arm with his two hands. Even though he didn’t get to move him a single inch, Ignis still laughed lowly. They shared some more conversation as Ignis tried to untie the vest that fit him more like a corset. Talk about uncomfortable. At least he was wearing this just for the portrait, and never again in his life. It was supposed to be semi-formal only, but the vest Prompto picked for him was one or two sizes smaller than Ignis’. Ignis had suggested maybe wear something else, but Prompto gave him those stupid puppy eyes and said something about how “but this brown suits you so _goooood!”_ And the gods damn Prompto, Ignis couldn’t say no to him. One day Prompto was going to ask him to throw himself off the roof just for fun and Ignis would comply. Noctis and Prompto were both going to be the end of him, he knew it. 

A few moments into friendly conversation, there was a knock on the door. A bit shy about his work, Prompto asked first who it was. He seemed rather comfortable with letting Nyx into his studio, so Ignis gladly opened the door for the coat rack, who made his way inside waddling even more than usual or necessary, with the hands behind himself, looking rather bored and relaxed. They all shared greetings as he walked inside.  
“Say, I was curious, Ignis” the rack asked as he went to poke his nose into other canvases, “you hadn’t appeared in the gardens, so…”  
“Ah. My apologies, Nyx” Ignis said and sat down on a nearby chair while tossing the (gods damned) vest to the sofa at his side. “I guess I must have stayed here longer than usual.”  
“Yeah, lately you’re _all_ day at the gardens, so being almost midday and with no signs of you, I was getting curious” the rack continued distractedly as he looked into the paintings. Ignis felt his cheeks tickle yet again and he lowered slightly the head, pretending he was looking somewhere else; gods, he really, really didn’t want to seem like a maniac to others, did he give off that impression? Was he thinking too much about it?

After a few moments, he saw Nyx take one of the canvases that Ignis had seen before. It was the portrait with the black-haired man with black uniform, the tiny tattoos on the cheeks, the little braid, and the extravagant haircut.   
“Ah” the rack said. “This is my favorite.”  
Ignis gave a curious glance at Prompto when the candelabra snorted.  
“This is your best portrait, little Cor” the rack continued. “Look at that face. So damn handsome. Hey there, gorgeous. Looking _good.”_  
Ignis, once more, looked at the candelabra when he burst out laughing. The man felt a little lost, like he had been pushed away of the conversation, because it felt like there was a joke somewhere there that he was missing, and that he just couldn’t catch. It _was_ a good portrait, and the man depicted there was good-looking. Or was Nyx being sarcastic? Ignis didn’t know, and apparently no one was going to explain. 

He tried to not give it importance and a little smile escaped him.  
“’Little Cor’?” Ignis asked curiously, staring at the candelabra.  
“A-ah…” Prompto seemed rather taken off-guard. From his earlier laughter, he switched to some shyness, which the man found a little cute. “Yes. Ah. You see- he’s not- but…” Prompto stared away with a shy but very happy smile, his hand once more returning to the back of his head. “Cor’s…always been sort of like a dad to me, so I sometimes get the moniker…”  
“Ah, I see” Ignis smiled. He didn’t need to be told who Cor was; that was one of the furniture he had gotten to know the most besides his usual friends. Cor was frequently accompanying him to and from the training hall, and sometimes even in his room. The wardrobe was stupidly timid, Ignis had discovered, but he wouldn’t admit that, and always hid it behind a serious face (as serious as a wardrobe could get to look, that is). Or maybe that was the only face he could pull out. Ignis had wondered it for real, maybe that was why Cor never smiled, not because he didn’t want to, but couldn’t? He was a wardrobe, after all…

Once with the neck undone, the rest of the shirt was no troubles. At least that was his size, and he wasn’t forced to leave the studio topless. Besides inappropriate, Ignis was…too shy about being looked at. He could stand short sleeves, but topless was entirely different.  
“Say, Prompto” the man said as he stood up from his chair to go look at more of the paintings. He picked a close one that depicted some woman with short, brown hair, she too in a black uniform. “You have me as model for my portrait” the candelabra gave one of his happy ‘uh huh’ as response. Ignis still waited and let a pause linger. “So how have you painted all other portraits?”

Both the coat rack and the candelabra stared at him in absolute silence. Ignis felt a little intimidated and very subtly raised an eyebrow without noticing, as if on the defensive, yet at the same time not understanding. Nyx and Prompto stared at him as if though Ignis had grown a third eye on the forehead and none knew how to tell him or how to react, and, even worse, they then shared a glance together. The man felt a little left-out again; these two were having a silent conversation through the eyes, they knew something he didn’t, and he was not enjoying of it.  
“Ah…uhm…” the candelabra started saying. “Uhm…well…s-some are…they’re from my imagination alone! Can you believe that?”  
“Hm…” Ignis stared away of him to look at the canvas again, and looked at another one that depicted some man with glasses and a wide forehead. “I’m not sure. I believe I once read that you cannot just make faces up. Especially as detailed. These seem like real people to me.”

“Uh…” there was an awkward silence as Ignis stared at the canvases, curious, as if the longer he stared and the longer he thought about it, the names of the people would magically appear in his head or something. Taking that distraction, Prompto nervously stared at Nyx again. The coat rack gave him a panicked shrug. Prompto turned again to Ignis’ direction. “Ah- uh, yes! Yes, of course, it’s because- it’s because they _are_ real, or once were.”

Both Nyx and Ignis turned to look at him; one in panic and the other in curiosity and surprise.   
“They are?” Ignis asked him, as if not believing Prompto would tell him the truth as easily.   
“Yeah!” Prompto nodded. “I mean, I _guess_ so” there was a pause after that, in which Ignis slightly tilted his head like a curious bird, requesting for more explanation with no words. “You see…some of these are portraits that I made out of _other_ portraits that were already here in the Citadel, but that were damaged or something and that I decided to remake” as he said that, Ignis subtly and very slowly started nodding once, all while Nyx, behind him and out of his sight, dropped the head and shoulders as if free from his panic. “And some others are from…books or stuff that I’ve seen around, and that I decided to paint bigger!”  
“Ah…I see…” Ignis said after a small silence. “I…hadn’t thought about that…”  
The way he said it somehow felt like some sort of ‘For a moment I thought you were lying to me, sorry’. Prompto felt a little guilty seeing how easily Ignis bought the lie, but also relieved, and all he could do was offer a nervous smile. From behind Ignis, Nyx raised one of his fingerless hands, which Prompto assumed was a thumbs-up. 

“Well, Prompto, thank you once more for putting so much effort into my portrait” the man said with a smile so sincere it made the candelabra feel a little moved.   
“Ah, no worries” Prompto smiled back at him. “It should be me thanking you. You’re doing it on my request, not the other way around, so…”  
“Still, you’re putting a lot of heart into it” Ignis said and raised a finger to carefully pet the top of Prompto’s head with it. “So thank you.”  
The candelabra smiled happily and in silence as Ignis friendly pampered him, and all he offered was the same smile afterwards.

Ignis stood straight back up.  
“Well, now I do wish to attend to the gardens. We’ve put a lot of effort into it to drop it like it’s nothing, right?” the man said as his way to start biding goodbye, and turned to the rack. “Nyx, if you could please be as kind and to guard me so I don’t try to make my escape…”  
“Pleasure is mine, Ignis” the rack said and started hurriedly waddling his way to the door. Ignis smiled; Nyx seemed to enjoy very much of the gardens, and he even sometimes helped Ignis with the work there. Living in an empty castle for five years with nothing to do had to get very boring, Ignis assumed, so it was no wonder that Nyx had gone look for him. More than worried, the rack was surely just bored and really wanted his excuse to go wander in the gardens. And not that he couldn’t do it on his own, but he seemed to have fun ‘guarding’ Ignis. The man didn’t feel offended; on the opposite, he felt very happy that he could make someone in the castle happy, even if it was just by taking a coat rack for a walk in the gardens. 

“So, see you later, Prompto” Ignis said a last time as the candelabra gathered around his brushes and tried to clean himself with a cloth.   
“See ya, Specs!”

With that last smile, Ignis turned around and left the room for his daily gardening. 

\--

It was no secret that Ignis was working extra hard on the gardens.   
The secret was what exactly he was doing.

Gladio had lost track of the man the past weeks at random times of the day; Nyx, his usual guard, had told him about how many hours the man had started to spend there, and how hard he was working. Sometimes, Ignis arrived to the library for their nightly reading a bit dirty. But it was mostly the fact that the man had started to disappear from the interior of the castle what had been noticeable the most; Ignis tended to come and go cleaning room after room or poking his nose into shelves or things he found around (the man was _terribly_ curious, something that Gladio had been finding to be strangely _cute_ as of lately), so the sudden silence and lack of activity in the castle was new. 

There was furniture that were keeping the rooms that Ignis had already cleaned, well, clean. It was strange; everyone had stopped caring about the state of the castle across the years, and it was like they needed of some stranger from outside to clean once to regain the motivation to keep the castle clean by themselves. Gladio had noticed the air of the Citadel to be…happier. Apparently, now with activities back, with something to be occupied on, the people of the Citadel radiated a…happier, lighter aura. Like they had recovered the purpose in life, even as close to death as they were. The castle had opened the curtains and windows, and was now full of light and air, and many rooms had been cleaned back to order and comfort, and now the gardens were being attended to; the people were happier, and there was noise and life back in the castle.   
All thanks to Ignis.

Lately, the realization of the mind-blowing change and impact that Ignis had had on everyone’s life and the building itself made Gladio smile every time, not in amusement but in something more…tender that he could not quite describe. It was a good sensation. It made him feel like _home._ He wasn’t sure what exactly it was, but Gladio felt embraced in what can only be described as Home. 

But returning to the garden issue; Gladio had been very aware of Ignis’ current preference of the gardens over his usual room cleaning. Gladio couldn’t blame him; even though Ignis had had access to the gardens for slightly more than a month now, he still had spent almost four indoors, half of (if not most of) which he wasn’t even allowed to open windows. Besides, his horse was out there. It was no surprise Ignis had taken a preference for the gardens.   
Gladio didn’t complain; what little he knew of Ignis’ life back in town sounded like the guy was never outside, like he had spent all his life indoors with paperwork, and only went out for hunts. Getting to go outdoors with nothing threatening to eat or kill him, of course he would take the chance. 

Not to say there was a _lot_ of work in the gardens; overgrown grass in almost every inch of ground, climbing plants, overgrown bushes, dying earth, weeds, plagues…it was a total _disaster._ And apparently Ignis Scientia was attracted to disaster. Not the other way around, no; disaster didn’t go where Ignis was, Ignis went to where disaster was just to _kill it_ and _smash it_ and _smack it_ in such a way that Gladio could swear Ignis could make material unliving things apologize for existing.  
The guy had a maniac necessity to fix it all. Of course the chaos that was the gardens would end up attracting him.

At first, Gladio had seen his progress; the beast went out every day as well, either for a walk in the gardens, a run on the field, or to go look for the everyday ingredients. It was only natural he had seen Ignis during his work in the gardens or after it. He had seen him cut the grass, be aided by the gardeners-turned-tools and “bossing” them around, Gladio had once even helped just some days ago with unveiling the kiosk that had been hidden under climbing plants (it felt now like such a fun memory). Gladio also _adored_ looking out through the windows. Especially since Ignis had cleaned some of them and kept most of them open, Gladio had rediscovered his absolute love for standing at a window just to look at the outside. Gladio had noticed Ignis’ progress in the gardens the most when he was looking through a window, as he had a clearer and expanded view.

But now he didn’t.   
Now, all that Ignis was doing in the gardens was a _secret_.

Despite the fact that Gladio went out every day, had windows next to him every day, Ignis’ garden activities remained now a mystery. On the human’s own request.  
“I’m trying…something” Ignis had told him one night when having dinner with the beast, something that, apparently, caused him less and less troubles as days went on. “And I know it’s most probable you will say no, and I understand and support the idea, I do know it doesn’t help to my figure of token of trust, and I don’t mean to take advantage of the trust you’ve given me with allowing me into the gardens, it’s not that, I was just wondering-”  
The beast had to fight with himself to hide a smile; that Ignis grew flustered was _very_ rare; he had seen it only counted, few times. It wasn’t something cute or heartwarming. It was merely funny. Composed, strict, serious Ignis, suddenly digressing and vomiting unnecessary speeches just to make a request.   
_Just say it, Ignis_ , Gladio thought. _I swear I don’t bite or claw or hit. Not you._

“-and I thought it would be a nice surprise” Ignis had finished after his request. Gladio stayed quiet, looking at him thoughtfully, more into curiosity than doubt. The human maintained eye contact with him, as firm as always. Gladio was used, since he was human, to people looking away or even feeling intimidated. And now, much bigger than he ever was as a human, much tougher, much more dangerous, much more intimidating and imposing…Ignis looked at him like he was a dog; not looking down on him, but with almost no fear. Aware that there were risks, but only if _he_ made a false step and angered Gladio. The beast didn’t like that Ignis still feared him to some degree (he had absolutely no intention or desire to hurt Ignis, not anymore), but he couldn’t blame him. Yet despite that little hint of fear, Ignis could lock eye contact with him for longer than anyone had done before. He was so brave it was reckless.  
Gladio liked it. Very much. 

“But it may not work, in the end” Ignis continued saying when he did look away, starting to poke the beans on his dish. “And I understand it raises suspicions, so it’s alright if you deny this…silly, perhaps rather naïve request of mine.”  
“No, no” Gladio said a bit too hurriedly. “You always have Nyx with you, right? So that’s okay. I’d still have three other doors, so no troubles there. And I think I’m curious for that surprise. So it’s fine” the beast stayed quiet. When Ignis looked up at him and started smiling, Gladio felt a pinch on top of the lungs and he grew nervous; he almost dropped the fork he was finally re-learning to use properly, looked away, stuttered a little, and felt the skin under the fur of his face burn. “And…uhm…whatever it is that you’re doing there” the beast tried looking back at him, but he looked away once more when he found the human still giving him that tiny but sincere smile, “…uhm…good luck!”

“Thank you, Gladio” the human said with a wider, brighter smile that the beast couldn’t dare look at.  
Whenever he gave Ignis permission for something, the man gave him _that_ special smile that he seemed to reserve just for that sort of occasion. Gladio had never known how to handle it; he now frequently saw Ignis smile, when reading, when talking with him, when biding goodnight or good morning, or when encountering him in the hallways. But the Thanks For Saying Yes smile, that was different, a bit more rare, way too… _cute_ , and Gladio couldn’t stand it. He could at least look at it when they were still enemies; what did he care, anyway? But now that they were friends and that Ignis had been so impossibly kind to him…the smile seemed so much brighter. Or, at least, Gladio now appreciated it much more than he ever did in a beginning. 

It made him deal with unnecessary and confusing feelings that he certainly didn’t need or could understand. So he just didn’t look at it that night.

 

And that’s how Gladio ended up not knowing anything about the north side of the gardens. Whenever he walked past a window which gave a view of the north gardens, he would hurry and/or avoid looking through it even if by mistake. In secret, he had earned a few laughs from furniture; he was a giant and imposing figure, so to see something so fierce-looking and giant suddenly make himself a ball and pass at the speed of light past a window like he would melt if he looked through it, it was sort of ridiculous. 

Gladio was used to use either the west or the north doors to go hunting or looking for ingredients (or for the sometimes necessary run to exhaust the beast inside him), but now he used either west or east. And, even more, the view from the west and east gardens to the north ones was “blocked”; Ignis had taken down the curtains of every room that he had cleaned, and also some of rooms he had yet not swept his magic duster through; with the help of Gladio himself, both had arranged them with the help of a few ropes which connected a window of the main building to as close to the outside wall as possible, with the ruined curtains hanging from them, as some sort of stage curtain to keep the north gardens out of view. 

Whatever Ignis was doing in the north zone, it was important to him…and, for that reason, it made Gladio terribly curious and excited. 

Each time Gladio paced (whether on two or four limbs) next to the curtains, he felt excitement build up inside him. He really couldn’t wait to see Ignis’ surprise. It felt like when he was a child and he simply _knew_ his dad had a gift for him, and his dad accepted it, said Yes, but never said exactly what it was; Gladio had to wait, each day more and more and more excited, until reaching a point where he was so excited he felt he would literally burst into flames. It was the same sensation, if only with a pinch of shyness, but the same excitement nevertheless. He really couldn’t wait, and he had the feeling that he would love it, whatever it was.

 

It would be a lie to say he hadn’t felt nervous about Ignis’ request to not see him work. Ignis was keeping the widest section of the gardens to himself, and a gate that led to the open field, not to say his horse was always following him. Gladio still remembered and still knew the only reason Ignis was there; to not escape. Which he did try once in the past. At first, Gladio did feel a little pinch of doubt, a bit of suspicions. 

But only some hours later, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, he smiled to himself, relaxed, and turned on his side to get some sleep with the thought,   
‘Pscht. It’s Ignis. He wouldn’t try to escape, even if I kept the doors open’. 

He didn’t say it aloud, and possibly didn’t notice it, but Iris did; she saw the incredibly tight thing that Gladio had grown for Ignis already at some point, without noticing.  
Trust.

\--

“…maybe he won’t come tonight.”  
“Don’t be like that, Gladdy. It’s just a couple minutes past the usual hour.”  
“Yes, exactly. Ignis is…he’s never late to anything, no matter how unimportant…”  
“Maybe he _is_ late sometimes. He may be responsible and sort of uptight, but he’s your age. He’s still young and may slip from time to time.”  
“Or maybe he just doesn’t want to come tonight, and that’s okay, I don’t- I don’t mean to sound like he’s doing wrong, he’s not, I understand if he doesn’t want to come tonight, I just…”

_I just really want him to._

The beast stood in the library, alone. Not counting the furniture, of course; a couple attendants scattered around, helping with arranging the books or with the usual cleaning (the library was one of the very counted places that Gladio did request to keep clean all those years). Iris was there too, on a table next to her brother. She was trying her best to keep Gladio distracted, or at least relaxed, but the beast was failing a bit at staying calm. It _was_ unusual of Ignis to be late. Not like he had any strict schedules, but they both would always show up at the library nearby the same hour every night. But now it was past twenty minutes and Ignis was nowhere in sight…

While she found it cute, she was also rather worried and a bit sad at the sight of her brother; the beast stood there, facing the door, holding his own tail softly but anxiously. He reminded her of a little child waiting at the door for his mom to arrive after an entire day left alone. It was rather cute; it spoke about how fond Gladio had grown of Ignis, about how much he liked him and enjoyed their time together. But it also spoke about Gladio’s own loneliness. Despite the company of the furniture, she understood that it simply wasn’t the same than treating with another biological creature. Gladio had felt alone for years…and now that he had made a new friend, he grew very easily worried about being abandoned. 

She guessed it was a normal reaction; for someone that had been abandoned for so many years, a new friend had to mean the universe. Twenty minutes of waiting for a friend was something rather normal, and anyone seeing Gladio’s puppy-like reaction would have tagged it of dramatic…but she understood. This situation and Ignis’ friendship meant more to Gladio than Gladio himself could see yet. Twenty minutes out of routine with his new friend had to feel like hours for someone that had spent five years feeling abandoned and neglected. 

“What if something happened to him?” Gladio asked after a moment that he spent quiet, not taking the eyes off the dual doors. “Ignis is so in time always. And even if he didn’t feel in the mood for reading, he would have told me, or would have told someone to tell me, right? So what if something happened to him?”  
“I don’t think so” Iris replied. “Someone would have told you if he was hurt or something.”  
“…yeah, I guess…” the beast said after a pause, as if he was realizing he was overreacting a little. 

The teapot, despite how bad she felt for her brother, still smiled tenderly; besides being nervous that Ignis wouldn’t show up, Gladio, without realizing, without thinking…he had just shown _concern_ for Ignis.   
She wondered if he was aware or not of how much he was starting to care for Ignis. And not that he didn’t care before; it was that, when they switched from enemies to acquaintances, his concern for Ignis was rather out of protocol, like Ignis was a valuable jar that they left in his care and that he was obliged to take care of. And now that they had switched to friendship, the way he cared about Ignis was more…sincere. He didn’t feel forced to keep him intact; he wanted to know he was okay. It was, perhaps, not the greatest or biggest concern that could exist, but it was real, and it was good. 

She wondered if, maybe, Ignis cared for Gladio the same way. 

Gladio let a sigh out through the nose, eyes still not moving off the doors. Iris looked up at him without receiving a glance back. She too looked at the door, hoping that Ignis really would appear; they were doing great in the first shy steps of friendship, and Gladio was in a very…sensitive stage of it. He was enough into the friendship to care, but not too much to have full trust that Ignis liked him back, so all that Ignis said and did, it all affected the beast greatly whether for good or for bad. The last thing Iris needed was for Gladio to have grown fond of the nightly reads and for Ignis to drop them without warning; he would be sending the beast into stupid thoughts the sort of “he doesn’t like me”, “he thinks I’m disgusting”, “he hates me”, etcetera.

Anyone would say Gladiolus was exaggerating; Gladio himself felt like he exaggerated with how much he reacted to anything related to Ignis’ friendship.   
But Iris understood, even better than Gladio himself. Loneliness can make even the most confident of men…well, this. A timid, very insecure creature that held his own tail and stared at the door with worried, terribly sad eyes, and lowered ears. 

After some waiting and growing uncomfortable with how sad Gladio looked, Iris started opening the mouth to say something-  
-when the door creaked.

Gladio’s ears flew upwards and he opened the eyes and the mouth slightly, completely attentive. In a matter of a few seconds, one of the dual doors opened enough so that through it appeared a human form- the only one of the castle.  
“Ignis!” the beast said in a hesitant voice, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to yell or whisper. The beast let go of his own tail and immediately started heading closer to the human. Iris sighed in relief and smiled at the sight of how intensely Gladio’s tail was wriggling as he made his way towards the man. “I- thought you- and it’s not that you have- is everything okay, Ignis? I’m sorry if you- I just-“  
“Gladio, my apologies” Ignis interrupted him while closing the door. He sounded rather breathless, and his respiration was shaky and heavy. “I-…it was my fault, I never meant- please, do not be upset in any way, I really didn’t mean…”

“Are you okay, Ignis?” the beast asked now that Ignis was forced to pause to catch his breath. “You look…” Gladio paused and analyzed him with the eyes before staring at the man’s face again. “Did anything happen?”  
“No, no, all this is just-…gods damn me, no, I’m so profoundly sorry for this….outrageous…I shouldn’t step into the library like this, I am…”

Gladio tilted the head lightly to a side, curious. It was rare that Ignis stuttered or grew flustered.   
Then again, it was also rare from Ignis to have such looks; from head to toe, Ignis was covered in dirt and dust. What had started as a white shirt looked mostly brown and grey. He had dirt even on the hair, and his face was in no better state. 

Gladio waited some moments just staring at him and hearing Ignis mutter some apologies before speaking.  
“Uh huh…” the beast said lowly. “Uhm, Ignis, you seem like the tidy and clean sort of guys so no wonder you’d grow flustered from being like this, but…” the beast’s eyebrows furrowed. “What concerns me is _why_ you’re like this. Besides all dirty, you’re all…shaken. Did anything happen? Are you hurt?”  
“Wh- no, no, thank the gods, no” Ignis said with a little nervous laugh, shaking the head slightly and pushing his glasses onto his nose, staring somewhere else. “It’s- not- I’m okay. Thank you for asking. Nothing happened, nothing that I wasn’t conscious of, that is, I-…” the man paused yet again and let out a loud sigh, his respiration finally settling back to normal. “What happened was…you know I’m…attending to the gardens, so I was working there…”

Gladio nodded, understanding. Ignis started walking further into the library, so the beast followed, walking at his side and not taking the eyes off the human, paying attention to his every word.   
“And that’s it.”  
“That’s it?”  
“That’s all. Why I’m in this state, I mean” Ignis said, still not glancing his way, and reaching the usual, nearby table. He put a hand on it, but didn’t sit on the chair that Gladio had already prepared for him. “I was just working on the gardens. I think…however…that I may have put a bit too much…enthusiasm today.”  
“…so you’re all covered in dirt because of gardening?” Gladio asked him in a tone that almost sounded like ‘is that all? There was no running away from a behemoth that almost ate you? No epic story about fighting a bunch of Iron Giants? It was just _gardening?’_ He didn’t ask any of that, and his question had not aimed for it, but Ignis felt all those questions anyway. However, instead of upset, he felt his cheeks tickle subtly, and he stared away.

“Yes” Ignis admitted with a very timid and too subtle smile. “I…was over enthusiastic today, I think…”  
“Woah” Gladio let out after a little huff. He too started smiling. “I really can’t wait to see what you’re doing in there” Ignis offered a little smile and the shrug of a shoulder like saying it was not the great thing. Before they could talk about anything else, Gladio’s smile faded and he spoke again. “Wait. But…what about- you were all…shaken when you arrived. Like deep breath and all…you sure you’re okay?”  
“Ah, that…” Ignis said and, finally, he sat down at the chair waiting for him, pulling it closer to the table. Gladio mimicked almost unconsciously, sitting down at the table without taking the eyes off the man. Ignis was staring slightly down and away. Now that Gladio noticed, the man looked rather tired. “What happened was-…I’m so sorry, Gladio, I didn’t mean to be late…it’s-“

Ignis sighed to stop himself and put order to his thoughts before speaking.  
“…I…was a bit too over enthusiastic today with gardening” Ignis started. “I was so into what I was doing that I let time go by until I lost notion of it. By the time I noticed…it was already past our usual meeting hour.”  
The man looked away, clearly embarrassed, and fidgeted a little with his glasses.   
“…my apologies, Gladio, I truly didn’t mean to forget about it. I didn’t- _forget_ , I just lost notion of time. I wasn’t planning to be late, I was planning to come as usual, like everyday, I really didn’t mean…”  
“It’s okay, Ignis” the beast interrupted him, slowly and softly shaking the head. “I _was_ worried you wouldn’t appear, but, uhm, I mean- I mean, you have all rights to not come if you don’t want to…”  
“No, but I did-!”  
“-no, it’s okay, I don’t mean that you didn’t mean to come, I just mean that it’d be okay if you didn’t” the beast hurried, interrupting him once more. “What I want to say is that…I understand. Now I do, at least. That you didn’t mean to be late…”

“I really didn’t” Ignis said and lowered the head very slightly once more, cheeks turning slightly pink in clear embarrassment. “Even though you understand, I still apologize. I should have done something to keep track of time.”  
“Maybe have Noctis with you next time will work?” the beast tried the tiny joke with a smile, just to lighten the mood. The man actually did grin a little, sighing.   
“That’s the reason I was rather agitated just now” Ignis continued explaining, more calm now. “It was already past our usual meeting hour, so I- that’s why I’m in such…unrefined and poor state, I didn’t have time to go change clothes or get cleaned, I-…I rushed here as soon as I could…”  
The beast’s heart skipped a beat.   
Ignis sighed and lowered the head again.  
“That’s why I made such a terrible entrance” Ignis said lowly, still so embarrassed it was almost palpable in the air. “My apologies, really…”

Gladio didn’t reply at first, for a long while.   
“It’s the first and last time I’m late, I promise” Ignis continued, not paying much thought to Gladio’s lack of answer. “I feared I may have made you…” the man stopped his words there and gave a hesitant look at the other. Eyebrows furrowed and voice lowering as if he noticed only as he was saying it that he _was_ saying it, Ignis let the pause linger, but it seemed like he guessed he had already spoken and there was no way back. “…angry…”

The beast did not reply at first. He was still staring with slightly widened eyes and subtly parted lips at the human sat next to him. Ignis was still giving him that hesitant, worried look, as if scared that it had been his comment itself what could anger him instead, not sure if he had just messed up or not.   
“Ang-? Oh, ah- no! No, no, it’s- no! That’s okay, Ignis, I’m- I’m okay…” Gladio forced himself out of the silence and forced a little smile as well. “I wasn’t angry. So there’s no danger for the beast…like, the _real_ beast to come out, don’t worry.”  
The man first opened the mouth as if to say that’s not what he meant, but shut it again and looked slightly away. Even if he had said no, Gladio knew that Ignis knew that _that’s_ what Ignis meant. What Ignis had feared. Gladio, too, feared the moments when the beast came out, so it was natural that anyone else feared it as well.

Gladio may have taken it wrong in some other moment; knowing himself and how much he overthought everything that Ignis did and said, the fact that Ignis had rushed there because he feared he had made Gladio angry and hence his concern was to make Gladio enter feral mode, it would have made Gladio think that the only thing Ignis cared about was having to deal with the wild animal he was.   
But Gladio was focused on the sole fact that Ignis _rushed_ there.  
Rushed there. Ignis said it himself with that same word, he _rushed to the library_ when he saw he was late.  
Ignis _ran_ to the library…to meet him. 

…Ignis _cared._

At least, that’s what Gladio liked to believe. He was almost entirely certain that that was the case; Ignis cared. Ignis was sincere about their friendship, and cared enough to hurry to meet him when he saw he was late. He could have walked, he could have taken his time, he could have not appeared at all if he didn’t care, but he actually _ran_ there. He wanted to be there as fast as possible, even if that meant being all dirty and out of breath. Because he _cared._  
Perhaps he was reading too much into it and making a big deal out of something that any decent human being would have done, but to Gladio, the fact that Ignis rushed there and cared about being punctual on a meeting with him, it was something that was beyond the beast.  
He knew Ignis had been kind with him so far, but being kind and polite did not necessarily mean friendship. But this? It was like a proof.   
And it felt _wonderful._

Ignis sighed as if to control his still slightly agitated breath, closing the eyes and taking the glasses off for a moment. While he rubbed one of his tired-looking eyes with his dirty hand, Gladio stared at him with a smile that widened slightly with each second. His tail happily swung, not like when he was over excited, but in an equally happy way. The wriggle of his tail was more subtle and the tip faced downwards, but the movements were full of such a sincere joy that Iris, from her spot, thought it an even prettier movement than when it went crazy and uncontrollable. When the tail went crazy and he was overexcited, it was usually from a sudden outburst of joy; but this was something a bit more…gentle. Like instead of sending his heart into an uncontrollably bouncing session, it gave it wings, or gently cradled it.   
Iris could not help but smile; who would have thought the movement of a tail could speak so beautifully about Gladio’s feelings?

The beast continued staring at the man as he rubbed his eyes one by one. Gladio did not take the eyes off him, and stared at him gently and deep in thoughts, but even deeper in mere appreciation. He liked it, very much…the feeling that Ignis cared for him. A lot of people cared about him, but he knew them from all life. Ignis, though…kind, difficult-to-handle but extremely goodhearted Ignis…Ignis had known him for some months, he had known him in this hideous form, he had to deal with the worst sides of Gladio…and still, he cared. He did now.  
It felt like an achievement, but it felt more like a gift, one he was not sure he deserved, but one he was grateful for.   
How was he supposed to pay back such a beautiful gift?

“Well” Ignis interrupted his thoughts with a sigh, putting his glasses back on and turning to look at the beast. He gave the older creature an exhausted glance and a tired smile. “Sorry I was late, and thank you for not being upset” Gladio’s smile faded and he blinked in sudden realization, while Ignis looked away and brought the book closer. “I see you already have the book prepared. I’m really sorry for my unpunctuality, but now we can start where we left off-”  
“You look exhausted, Ignis.”

The man blinked and turned to look at him again, taken off-guard. He stared at the beast as if waiting more explanation. Gladio only did but return the glance, until Ignis looked slightly away with a quiet ‘uh…’, as if searching somewhere in the book or his hands any answer.  
“Well…uhm…” the man continued trying to look for something to say, but the beast tilted the head and talked before he could come up with any reply.  
“You know, Ignis” the beast said much more softly than usual, looking serious, “we can…skip reading tonight.”

Ignis blinked again out of the surprise and looked at the beats with slightly widened eyes. He stayed quiet, as if maybe expecting for the beast to say he was just joking, but that never happened. The beast just gave him a serious but soft look.   
“…but…Gladio…” Ignis murmured, in absolute surprise.  
“You look very exhausted, Ignis” the beast said and reached close for the book the man was holding. His paw hesitated when it was close, but he made sure to get a grip of the book so that his claws got nowhere close to the man’s hands. Ignis watched the careful and thought-through movement, noticing. The beast took the book away and set it on the table as he spoke. “If you’d rather go to bed, that’s okay with me, you know.”  
“…but Gladio…” the man repeated, more lowly this time, staring at the book almost with sadness. He turned to look at the beast again. “It’s okay. I swear. I can do this.”

The beast shook the head.  
“I know you can” Gladio smiled, “but it’s not what you can or cannot do right now, but what you’d _rather_ do. What you _want.”_  
Ignis gave him furrowed eyebrows and an expression that the beast wasn’t sure how to read. He took in a breath and let it out softly through the nose before continuing.  
“You know, Ignis, you work very hard” Gladio said. “You train hard in the morning, and you’re always working hard on tidying up rooms, and working on the gardens as of lately” the beast listed. “You worked extra enthusiastically, extra hard on the gardens today. Just once glance is enough” he smiled at that part, but Ignis didn’t. “And you always take the time and effort to also come read to me. And even more, you always take the time and effort of cooking three meals for me. For us both.”

Gladio felt the sudden need to give him a gentle and friendly touch on the arm, like he would do with any friend, but remembered about his physical state and did not dare put Ignis in any risk so he kept the hands down.  
“You do so much, Ignis” Gladio said more lowly and more gently. “You deserve and need to rest, you know? You can read today, I know that…but, as exhausted as you look, it’s okay if you’d rather skip to dinner to go to bed earlier. You know, I won’t be upset.”  
“…it’s just…” Ignis started after a pause, voice rather low and sort of unsure. The beast looked at him softly and curiously, calmly waiting for him to continue, which motivated the man to do so. “…it’s just that you enjoy of this so much…” right as Gladio opened the mouth, Ignis hurried to look back up at him again and rushed to talk again. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t, I do! I do, I enjoy of this a lot, but you particularly-…you particularly, you seem to enjoy of it so much…and I feel…bad just taking it from you like this, you know? Like, just because I’m tired, I take from you one of your favorite activities? It seems…sort of wrong to me. That’s all.”

Despite how wrong he knew Ignis was, the beast could not help a little smile; Ignis’ reasoning was cute. Gladio had noticed a few things before, each on different scales, but each day that went by he dug more and more into how incredibly and sometimes incomprehensibly _selfless_ Ignis was. Not just with him; Gladio had noticed it mostly with the furniture friends, but now that he too was becoming some sort of friend to the man, Ignis was letting some of that selflessness show in front of him as well. The best and worst part of it all was that Ignis himself didn’t even seem to notice that some if not most if not maybe all the things that he did were usually selfless. It was not always healthy or good, but it spoke of a good heart. And that was enough for Gladio.

“Of course it’s one of my favorite things of the day” Gladio nodded. “And of course I love this. But I’d rather you do something because you want to than because you think I want you to” after he spoke that, there was a tiny pause in which the man seemed to digest the phrase. And as soon as he saw Ignis’ lip moving, mouth preparing to come up with some reply, the beast spoke again. “Ignis, I want you to enjoy of this too. What is the point of forcing you to something just because I like it? It’s not like you’re some entertainment jester or clown, you know” after he said that, he saw the man’s shoulders drop subtly, and he looked away. Seeing he was already gaining territory in winning this argument, Gladio continued to secure his victory. “You know, doing things for someone else is good, but if you don’t do it once, it doesn’t make you a bad guy or anything.”

There was another long pause, where the man just looked slightly down and away. Gladio, once more, felt the need for a tiny physical touch; maybe poke his chin with the back of a finger, or give him a little bump on the arm. Again, he feared he would not be able to control his strength or wouldn’t know how to not use the claws, and did not dare touch him.  
“It’s okay, really” Gladio insisted. “I really want you to enjoy it too, not just- use you for _my_ entertainment. You’re not a _slave_ , you know, you’re my- you’re my-…” he paused there and lowered both head and voice, feeling the skin of his cheeks under the fur burn. “We’re…friends, right? Or trying to be or-…” he almost whispered it all, paused, cleared his throat, and tried to continue pretending he had said nothing. “And I want you…to do what… _you_ want. Not what you think _I_ want. I won’t be upset. I understand. Really.”

Ignis took in a breath through the nose after the silence lingered for a bit too long, and he slowly let it out through barely opened lips. He put the head slightly down and closed the eyes, using a hand to push his glasses.  
“…I think…I’d really…” he hesitated, brought the head up, smiled with some embarrassment, and looked away. “…I’d really like to go to bed early today…”  
“Okay then” Gladio said softly and smiled kindly at him. Ignis looked at him with eyes as curious as grateful. He stared at the beast with a curiosity that went unseen by Gladio, who only smiled at him and then stood up from the chair. “If you want to go to bed right now, that’s fine too, I can ask Cibus for dinner this time so you don’t have to worry about cooking.”  
“No, no” Ignis shook the head as he too stood up, pushing the chair back in its place as he spoke. “It’s fine. I have energy enough for that. Besides, I already took one of our activities from you, I can’t just stop doing everyth-”  
“Ignis, you’re not catching the difference between slave and friend, are you?”

The man sighed but could not help a wide and amused smile. Seeing that the man had found it funny made the beast himself laugh a bit, which only did but make Ignis widen his smile until it turned to a grin, containing a little, single laugh. Gladio, again, suddenly wanted to do something like maybe pat the man on the back as a friendly gesture, but he refrained once more. Instead, he just gestured towards the doors with a paw. The man responded with a half-nod of gratitude, and both started walking towards the exit, engaging in sudden but flowing conversation.

Iris was about to call them out and remind them she was there and a little help to make it to the kitchen would be appreciated, but she didn’t have the heart to interrupt them. Not when they were finally being so friendly, after months of almost poking each other’s eyes out with a fork.

She could hop to the kitchen herself.

\--

Despite the tiredness and Gladio insisting on him that it was fine if he wanted to go straight to bed, Ignis insisted he cooked dinner that night. The way he talked about it made it look like a compromise, like everything they had gotten to build so far would go to the garbage if he skipped _one_ night of dinner with the beast. Gladio tried to convince him and insisted that it was alright, but the man denied every invitation of going to bed and reached for the kitchen.  
It would be a lie to say Gladio was upset. He really cared about Ignis’ tired state, but he could not deny he _adored_ having dinner with him, even if Ignis was constantly nagging him about his manners at the table…

That was how Gladio ended up in his usual task, bringing things from the pantries for Ignis to cook. The man had denied going to bed, but he had accepted on keeping dinner very simple so to not take too long or put too much effort into cooking; he was not just tired, he was _wrecked_ , and it was easily noticeable. His eyelids looked heavy like a catoblepas, he constantly yawned and rubbed his eyes, constantly shook the head as if to bring himself back awake, and even stood and walked subtly hunchback. He really was putting a lot of effort into the gardens, and he really was very exhausted.

Gladio brought only some of the vegetables that they grew in the little orchard on the east side of the gardens. When he had them in hands he could not help but feel excitement build up inside him just at the good memories from having picked vegetables only the previous day, with Ignis. Lately, Ignis and him did a lot of stuff together, and he really was enjoying everything, even something he didn’t know he could enjoy of, like looking after a tiny orchard. Maybe the fun was not in the things they did, maybe the fun was in Ignis all alone. Who knew. 

When the beast took the vegetables to the kitchen and put them on the counter, he saw the man mid yawn. Even though Ignis kept a hand to his mouth, it was pretty clear he was opening the mouth like he was a damn lion. Gladio couldn’t help an amused smile, but before he could chuckle, the yawn was passed to him. So long had it been since he last cared about putting a hand to his mouth to hide a yawn from other people’s eyes (because in five years he had no one to hide it from), that it did not even cross Gladio’s head to do it. He yawned unashamedly, mouth opening widely. The sound that escaped him as he yawned managed to startle even Ignis, standing next to him. 

Once done yawning, Gladio looked down at him, to find the man staring at him as if surprised.  
“…what?” Gladio asked lazily.   
“Uhm. Nothing” Ignis said and shook the head. Before Gladio could think things through (realize the size of his fangs, for example), the man looked away of him and started rubbing his tired eyes with his now gloveless and clean hands. “Apologies.”  
“For yawning? Eh” Gladio shrugged a shoulder. “That’s fine, Ignis. We’ll have dinner quickly and then you go to bed. As tired as you are, you’ll sleep like a baby, you’ll see.”  
“A good rest sounds very pleasant right now” Ignis agreed with a tired but wide smile as he reached for one of the vegetables. “Thanks for bringing these.”  
“Yeah” Gladio said casually, not overthinking as usual. This had become very common, and he was finally getting used to it. 

The beast leant casually against the counter, and watched the man start cutting the lettuce in his hands. Gladio looked over at his face, and saw the smile gone. Ignis did not look upset, just absolutely exhausted. The beast looked at his face, then his hands, the way it looked like Ignis was putting all his last strength and focus into the simple task. Gladio looked back up at him, a little worried.  
“Say, Ignis, I could give you a hand” the beast offered as casually, looking over at the vegetables he had brought. “I feel bad leaving everything to you, especially as exhausted as you are, so I thought maybe I could-” as he spoke, Gladio started reaching for one of the vegetables.   
As he did, however, his own hand entered his range of sight.   
His hideous, abnormally big hand, covered in thick fur, and the large, thick claws crowning his fingers.

His hand froze in place before he could touch anything.

He too stayed paralyzed for a few seconds. The sound of Ignis’ knife had faded, and the beast could feel his eyes on him.  
Gladio suddenly felt…hyper aware of his appearance.   
“Uhm…no…I- didn’t mean-“ the beast started saying, retrieving his hand and looking down and away, holding his own paw like he had burnt it. “No, I’m sorry. I forgot. I just- wanted to help and didn’t think…”   
The silence fell thick around them. Gladio didn’t dare glance in the human’s way. He kept the head lowered and a hand gripped in the other.   
“Sorry” he whispered. “I’m…covered in fur, and sometimes I walk on my paws, so I’m all dirty. I would just…make things dirty, huh? You’ve never- I mean-” the beast cleared his throat and tried lifting the head, slowly stepping backwards towards the door. “Sorry, I uhm. I would just…mess things up. Get it all covered in fur. I’ll just…leave and…”

The beast stopped walking for a moment, eyes down looking at his equally hairy feet. The claws of his feet shyly toyed with each other. He moved a hand up and scratched behind his ear, still not lifting the eyes.  
“Yeah…”  
“…no.”

Gladio finally looked up at the man. Ignis was half-turned, a knife still in his hand. He was looking at Gladio as if not sure what to say or think. His eyes looked very subtly more widened than normal, but that was all that could give any expression to his otherwise blank, if slightly surprised, face. The beast furrowed slightly the eyebrows as if asking for an explanation.  
“Uhm…no…” Ignis repeated more lowly, looking away. He pushed his glasses up his nose. “No. It’s- okay.”  
The beast’s eyebrows did but furrow even more, confused.   
“It’s fine” Ignis murmured, still not looking his way. He left the knife on the counter and hugged himself, different to crossing the arms, gesture that didn’t go unseen by the beast. The man looked…uncomfortable, and rather shy. In a strange way. “It’s fine” he repeated, as if to convince himself. 

After a little pause, Ignis turned to look at Gladio, and gave him a smile.  
“I’m dirty too” he said with a slight shrug of a shoulder.  
Both stayed quiet. Gladio’s expression softened and turned to surprise. Ignis, on his side, looked away again, still smiling, but still with that awkward, uncomfortable body language. After a moment, he raised his hands and showed them to Gladio, smile widened.  
“See, I’m still a bit dirty, even after washing my hands” Ignis said timidly. “Dirt, fur. It’s just about washing the food. Right?”

_If I am to cook for you, gentleman, I have one strict and unbreakable rule I won’t argue or change my mind about:_

Gladio looked at the man with wide and shocked eyes. His mouth was slightly parted as well, and he did not move from his spot. His ears were tense, like a prey paying attention in case they were being observed. Ignis, definitely not in any predatory behavior though, stood shyly and rather uncomfortable in his spot, giving that slightly forced smile.   
“So it’s fine…if- you want to help in the kitchen” Ignis said after the silence had lingered awkwardly.

_You can **not** be in the kitchen while I work, understood?_

Gladio’s ears moved up, not in excitement but in an even greater shock. He stood there entirely paralyzed, staring at Ignis with wide eyes and open mouth. The man could only offer the same awkwardness and uncomfortable smile.

_What do you mean I can’t go in the kitchen!? It’s mine!_

“Just- wash your hands and there should be no problem, right? Your fur is on the back of your hands, so there’s low chances you’ll drop any on the food. And if you do, we just…wash it. Right?” Ignis continued saying, clearly uncomfortable by the lack of any form of response. “So it’s fine. You can…help if you want…”

_You’re all fur and paws! You’re dirty! Unless you’re planning to give us both a very awful infection or stomach illness, then you are most definitely not allowed in the kitchen from now on, understood? Stop snarling at me, you savage! My cooking, my rules! Now get out of here! You are not and will not be welcome in my kitchen!_

The beast still stayed petrified for a moment more. Ignis seemed to have run out of words, and he was nervously biting down on a side of his lower lip, eyebrows furrowed and eyes on Gladio, for once not concealing his nervousness. ‘I just messed up, didn’t I?’ seemed to be written all over his face, no words needed to see it.   
But he was very far from having messed up. Gladio wanted to tell him so, but...he could not help the shock.   
The kitchen and cooking were Ignis’ own safe sanctuary. That Ignis was allowing him there…  
Perhaps Gladio was reading too much into it like he had done back in the library, and maybe he was seeing it in a perspective a million times greater than it really was…but…that Ignis was allowing him in the kitchen, it felt like when Gladio let him in the library, except with roles inversed. It felt like Ignis was giving up his only personal and safe space just to…just to make him happy. Or at least, to not make him sad. 

Ignis was welcoming him in the only one place he had kept for himself all this time…  
What did that mean?

“…unless you’ve changed your mind, that’s okay too, I mean-”  
“No, no!” Gladio hurried, shaking the head slightly and forcing himself out of his shock. “No, it’s not-I’m just…” he calmed down, lowering the hand he had lifted in a gesture of ‘stop’. His ears slowly started going down as well, and his eyebrows furrowed a bit. “…I’m just…kind of surprised. Are you…sure? You don’t- have to agree just out of pity or anything, I’m-”  
“No, no” Ignis said accidentally mimicking him from earlier. “It’s not pity, I just…” the man stayed quiet, frozen in his place. As he took in a deep silent breath, he lowered his hands. He softly let the air out before he continued. “…I think…I’ve been very hard on you about staying out of the kitchen…” Ignis looked away, with a look of remorse on his face, and he gripped his left arm with his right hand, caressing it up and down. “…I’ve…been very harsh on you for no reason…” he sighed shortly. “And…rude. And I apologize.”

There was a pause, in which Gladio did but stare at him, feeling a slight pinch inside. Ignis apologizing was not entirely new, but…it was rare, because he had so little to apologize about. And it was extremely sincere. The sincerity of it, and the act of just accepting he had done wrong, it was like he acknowledged he had somehow offended Gladio and, hence, made him feel bad somehow. And apologizing was…touching some of Gladio’s fragile heartstrings.   
He really was not who he used to be, and he could not help but take everything from Ignis very, very personal. It took him months to admit it, but that was the truth. And now, that Ignis apologized for one of the things Gladio had taken really personally, it felt sort of moving.   
But, once more, Gladio knew that this was one of those things that meant a million times more to him than they meant to Ignis, and he did not want to come off as exaggerated. So he kept the size of his feelings for himself. 

He smiled. The man looked at him quickly and looked away again.  
“So…really, it’s fine if you…help in the kitchen. I…won’t mind” Ignis said lowly, and finished his words with a smile. Gladio stared at him in silence, and started smiling very slowly, from a subtle curve to a proper smile. The tip of his tail gently waved side to side, rubbing against the floor, and his ears moved up as slowly until being normally and happily upwards. The man’s eyes scanned him and his body language, saw the relaxation and the joy. And he smiled much more sincerely than before in response. 

Both stood there, doing nothing but smile at each other, for a good while. After a while, Ignis looked away and nodded towards the vegetables, like an invitation. Gladio nodded shyly in response and walked back to his place next to the man, in front of the counter.  
“So, uhm…” the beast said while looking at the things set in front of him. “I’m…not sure what to do, Ignis…what can I help with?”  
“Uhm…” the man seemed to hesitate and looked at each vegetable set on the counter, like he was judging which was the correct thing to choose. It did not go unseen by Gladio that Ignis did look sort of uncomfortable. But he did not look…disgusted. And that was more than enough for the beast. “Hm…what about…” Ignis got closer; by instinct, Gladio moved aside so the man wouldn’t touch him. Ignis took a carrot and showed it to him. “This? You just have to…slice in circles. You know how to?”  
“Uhm…yeah, I think…” Gladio’s own voice betrayed him, but both were comfortable pretending they had believed his lie. The beast’s hands clumsily fidgeted and danced a little in the air, not sure what to do, where to start, like his hands were new and he was just getting used to them. 

After a moment, Ignis handed him a knife. The beast looked down at it like he had never seen one before, and turned to look at the man, as if questioning him. Ignis, still with that clearly uncomfortable expression and pose on, tried forcing a smile.  
“…you should use this. I guess” he murmured, awkwardly. Gladio responded with a whispered ‘right’ and took the tool. He, again, fidgeted a bit with the knife in his hand. Ignis tried to make it easier for him (for both), and pretended he was not staring, and returned to his own task with the lettuce. He worked on it silently while Gladio tried to get a decent grip of the knife.   
He mentally cursed.  
 _This wasn’t so difficult with human hands…_

He sighed shortly, frustrated. That was why he liked big things and big weapons, they had big handles to be held by his big hands. This kitchen knife was too small, at least for his beastly form. Hands and feet were what always gave him the most troubles after his transformation. He couldn’t hold things as easily as when he had human hands, he could not measure the strength of his grip, he could not turn on his feet as quickly as he used to, and he most certainly couldn’t do something as simple and trivial as even dance now…  
Gladio paused when he felt himself becoming angry. He reprimanded himself mentally; a kitchen knife would not be his reason for overthinking, and most certainly not his reason to lose his temper. Ignis had trusted to him his sacred place, he could not ruin it by going feral mode.   
If not for himself, then he had to control the beast _for Ignis._

With that thought and motivation, Gladio sighed and calmed down, and held the knife as correctly as he could manage. He tried to hold the carrot with the other hand, but his hand was bigger than the vegetable. He tried with the tip of the fingers, but found his claws making it impossible unless he did it on awkward angles. A little frustrated, he tried with the tip of the claws, and found it tricky. He growled under his breath; he had wanted to help to make this faster so that Ignis could go to bed sooner, but he was only slowing things down and becoming a nuisance. Excellent.  
 _No. You stop that. Don’t get angry in front of him._  
Once more, the beast closed the eyes and breathed slowly to keep calm. He tried, once more, to find some angle in which to do this task.

Once he could get some sort of hold of the carrot, he lifted the knife, and started slicing. The first slice came more violent than he intended to, and he saw Ignis getting startled by the corner of his eye. Yes, this had been an excellent idea. Gladio reminded to himself he was five or ten times the stronger than he used to be as a person, so he had to take it very easy. Trying again, he made another slice. Slowly, he made a third. It was taking more focus than he had imagined. 

When he was by his fifth slice, he heard Ignis putting down his own knife.  
“No, no” the man said as he broke the distance between them. Gladio looked down at him, quiet. “You’re doing great, but this is not how you hold the knife.”

Ignis reached for his hand.  
Gladio saw Ignis’ hand getting close to his own; by instinct, Gladio’s hand flinched slightly in its place, and Ignis’ hand mimicked it, and froze. The beast saw Ignis’ hand stay there for a few seconds, as if hesitating, but it ended up continuing until landing on top of Gladio’s.   
The beast turned to look at the human again, as surprised as nervous. Ignis was not looking his way and only focused in his gentle grip on Gladio’s hand. He got closer and used the other hand as well; Gladio saw the same than before happen; Ignis hesitated, yes, but he ended up touching him anyway. That second hand started accommodating his fingers, one by one, carefully, and even gently. The beast looked carefully at the movements, and more than once he felt the necessity to warn Ignis about his claws and about being careful, but he found himself to be mute. 

He looked at the man again; Ignis was touching his hand. And he was not stepping away. He was much closer to Gladio than they had been before, not counting the once Gladio almost threw him down at the gardens, or the times they fought. Gladio could feel Ignis’ body almost against his own; he could feel his solid form, right next to his own. Solid. _Real._  
And Ignis’ hands on his own…they tickled. Like a bolt of light gently striking him; gentle, yes, but still a bolt.   
Gladio, once again, tried muttering a ‘be careful’ while Ignis accommodated his fingers and his hand, but he could say nothing. 

“There” Ignis said and looked back up at him. “Like this.”  
As he said that, he tightened a bit his grip around Gladio’s hand. He was using his own on top of the beast’s like it was him holding the kitchen tool. Even when Ignis’ hand was much smaller in comparison of the paw, his grip was firm enough, and he could make Gladio understand the point. The beast looked at their hands. Ignis was not shivering. He was not retreating. He kept a firm grip of his own hand, like it didn’t have those hideous claws, like he was not covered in fur.   
Ignis was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. All that Gladio could do was take the eyes off their hands and look back at him, but still could not say anything.  
“That’s why your slices are coming out irregular and rather shapeless” Ignis explained to him, mistaking the question in Gladio’s eyes and answering to another one. The man looked away, to focus on the carrot. “See, if you do it like this…”

As he spoke, Ignis moved the hands so he was using Gladio’s to cut the slices, guiding his movements. He needed both hands to control Gladio’s big one, which ended up in Ignis needing to hold Gladio’s paw between both of his. The beast mechanically obeyed and did as Ignis’ hands were asking from him; they controlled how much he had to lift the hand, how to move the wrist, etcetera. Gladio continued slowly and gently handling the knife, slice by slice, until the entire carrot was done.  
When they finished, Ignis let go of his hand and took half a step back.  
“Got it?” the man asked softly, looking at him with a blank expression. Gladio kept the eyes on his hand. He did nothing for a moment but stare at it, until he found it rude to not reply. He turned to look at the man, who was still standing much closer to him than ever before. He did not look scared. A bit nervous, perhaps, but…he was looking at Gladio and was not taking the eyes off him. He was not scared or disgusted.

Gladio suddenly felt very aware of his looks and his entire form, and he felt too shy to open the mouth, fearing it might have bad smell, like that of a dog or some other animal. So he only nodded.   
“Alright” Ignis whispered and gave him a small smile that the beast could not quite read, as busy as he was in the tickling of his hands. He could still feel the print of Ignis’ hands on his skin, like they were still there. Firm, and warm, and…dear.   
When Ignis stepped back again, casually, Gladio let out a breath he had not noticed he had been containing, and hoped that, as close as he had been, Ignis had not heard Gladio’s heart going nuts inside his ribcage. He had stood at a decent distance for a pair of friends, but Gladio’s heart beat so loudly inside him, Gladio did not doubt it could have been heard even from that separation in between.

Gladio sighed shakily and stared at the second carrot. He took it, and before he started slicing, he glanced in Ignis’ direction.  
“Uhm…Ignis…” he started saying. The man, who was washing his hands, looked back at him, calmly. The beast stared at him in silence. Ignis finished washing his hands, dried them, and Gladio continued just looking. Ignis was looking back, clearly inviting him to continue.   
_Are you not scared or disgusted of me?_  
“Sorry. I wanted to help to make this faster, but…” Gladio blurted out instead, shaking the head slightly.  
“No, that’s quite alright” the man smiled. “We’re almost done. But that carrot won’t cut itself, you know?”

Gladio smiled as response. He looked away and back at the carrot, and nodded. 

They did not share much conversation as they worked in the kitchen. Ignis did as he had said, and washed the things Gladio had touched before cooking or serving them.   
In the end, they did not talk much over dinner either; Ignis was tired and, while secretly, he was also making sure to spot any hairs in his food, which took what little focus he had. Gladio, on his part, was still thinking about the way Ignis had held his hand, and, while he didn’t say it, he was trying to rush on his food so, the sooner they would be done, the sooner Ignis could go to bed.   
He didn’t say it, but Ignis had his suspicions, and he could not help but smile as Gladio chomped down on his food.  
For once, Gladio’s bestial eating was a delight, and Ignis decided to not fight it.

 

That night, they stopped as usual in the stair’s landing where they usually parted ways. Just like dinner, the way there was mostly but not entirely quiet. That is, of course, until they stopped at the usual spot to bid goodbye.   
“Thanks, Ignis” Gladio was first to say anything, as usual. “I know you’re wrecked, so really, thanks for still taking the time to make dinner for us.”  
“You’re very much welcome, Gladio” the man said with a smile, tired but sincere. “Thanks to you for helping me in the kitchen.”  
“Chst, don’t remind me…” the beast looked away and felt his face become hot under the fur. He scratched the back of his head as he spoke, shy. “I wanted to make things faster, and I ended up just being this clumsy drag…”  
“You were slow, yes” Ignis agreed with a slight tilt of the head. “But your intention was really cute. So thank you. A lot.”

The beast’s ears flapped up and he looked at Ignis with some surprise. Had he just said ‘cute’?  
Gladio could not help but burn so hard in the face, he wondered if his fur had turned red.  
“U-uh…” was all that the beast was able to stutter while the man looked at him, expecting an answer. Ignis could not help but widen his smile, and he half-hid his mouth behind a hand to chuckle shortly. After the little laugh, he looked away and fidgeted with his glasses as if to pretend he had not just laughed.  
“Anyway, Gladio” the man started. “Thanks for your help in the kitchen. And…” he paused there, lowering the eyes and trading his smile for a bit of a hesitant look. “Uhm…” yet another pause. The man dropped his hands softly, holding one in the other, and let out a breath he had been holding. “Thanks as well for…you know…about you giving up our daily reading so I could go to bed early…”  
“Ah, no, it’s okay” the beast said softly, but the way his face beamed with joy betrayed him a little. “There’s always tomorrow.”  
“Yes…” Ignis whispered and smiled a bit more widely. Gladio only smiled back, unaware if he was missing any subtext in all this, and too happy for having Ignis’ gratitude and approval to really care at all. “Uhm…so…goodnight, Gladio.”

“Night, Ignis” the beast replied as usual. “Thanks again for the food. And for the patience in the kitchen…”  
“You’re welcome, Gladio” the man said with a half-nod as if in some sort of formal reverence. “Thanks to you for your kindness.”  
“A-ah…” the beast, once more, felt himself blushing, and he could not help but go back to shyness, body shrugging a bit and ears moving down. “Y-yeah…”  
“See you tomorrow, Gladio” the man said with a soft smile, and took half a step back.  
“Yeah. ‘Till then, Ignis” the beast replied as softly, he too taking half a step back more out of reflex and mimicking than really thinking. “Rest well.”  
“Sleep tight” Ignis subtly nodded again.   
“Bye…”  
“Goodbye.”  
“…goodbye.”

Already turning around, Ignis looked above his shoulder back at the beast and smiled as if in yet another silent goodbye, looking like it amused him a bit in some way to hear Gladio say goodbye so many times. Gladio was conscious that he was just being redundant and saying too many goodbyes, and he feared Ignis could find him strange, so even though he wanted to say it again, he refrained and stayed quiet. He tried to turn around and go upstairs as well, but he found himself stopping and looking back at the man. Ignis was not looking his way; he was going upstairs calmly, not stopping nor looking back. Gladio, on the opposite, stood on the first steps of his side, and did but look at him, quiet. 

When Ignis reached the top of his side of the staircase, he did look back. He seemed to be a little startled, or at least surprised, to find Gladio still standing there, doing nothing but look at him. The beast was not flustered to be caught staring. He really wanted to stare. And he hoped, maybe, Ignis would turn around and return over his steps and come back to him to talk a little more. Just five minutes more. Or one minute, that was okay too. Maybe just one goodbye more…anything. Gladio only wanted five more seconds with him. Not sure he could explain why…he just wanted it. 

Ignis did not return over his steps. He only turned slightly so he was neither giving front or back to Gladio, and he stared at him with clear curiosity and some confusion, with the question written all over his face.  
The beast, still staring at him but with no trace of any smile on his face, lifted a hand and shyly waved at the man. Ignis gave a slightly worried smile, and he waved back, silently.  
After hesitatingly lowering the hand, like he didn’t know if he had waved long enough already, Ignis still gave him that slightly worried look, like he was asking him if there was anything else he needed. That Gladio only stood there staring at him with no readable expression certainly gave him reasons for that. 

The beast, understanding the situation he was putting Ignis in, gave him a sincere smile and forced himself to turn around to start going upstairs as well, on his side of the staircase. Ignis stared at him a few moments, and then decided that everything was alright, so he turned again into the hallway and retook his steps towards his room.   
He didn’t glance back; Gladio would know. He did stop at the top of his own staircase to look over his shoulder. He had not expected Ignis to have stopped and that he would be looking his way. He just wanted to look. As if to make sure he was still there. Or, perhaps, just to make sure Ignis had indeed not looked back. 

After seeing the man leaving, Gladio looked down at his hand. He brought it up and stared at it as if not comprehending. He slowly turned it so he could look at the paw, at the fur, the front and the back of his beastly hand. He could still feel Ignis’ hands on it, but not like when Ignis worked on fixing his touch starvation; this didn’t burn. This was…warm. It still tickled in a rather uncomfortable way, it had been literal ages since he had been touched like that. But it was not bad. Definitely, it was not bad…  
“Everything okay, Gladdy?”

The beast looked down to see the little figure of his sister standing next to his foot. Oh. He had…forgotten to carry her as usual. As usual. Wow, now that Gladio noticed, he had gone too many nights so focused in the good times he had with Ignis that he had forgotten to carry Iris for…some weeks…maybe months now?   
“Yeah” the beast replied softly to the previous question before leaning down. He could grab Iris with the fingers, but he had never liked to do it; he preferred to go down to his ankles and put the hand down on the floor, so Iris herself could hop onto it. His sister had always been much smaller and much more fragile than him, but now she was literal ceramic…the last that he wanted was to cause any tiny harm of any sorts. 

Once with Iris on his hand, Gladio retook his own steps towards his own room, in silence.  
The silence was thick and noticeable enough that he knew there was no way Iris wouldn’t know there was something in his head. It was not like he kept things from her anyway, so, in the confidence of siblinghood, he contained a sigh in his chest and looked down at his sister.  
“Iris” he murmured, “he touched my hand today.”  
“I saw, yes” the teapot said with a slight nod. There was a pause again. Gladio looked into the hallway he was about to turn to, almost like making sure the human was not there, so he could continue.  
“Like, my hand” Gladio repeated as he continued walking. “The hideous giant thing at the end of my arm, with the thick hair and the dog-textured paw and the…giant claws so sharp they could cut him like butter” as he spoke he gestured slightly in the air with his claws as if to demonstrate, even though the movement made him look even more harmless than usual to her eyes. “He touched it.”

“So?” Iris asked. “He’s touched you before. He does it daily, actually. You know, with all this idea about helping you with your touch starvation…”  
“Yes, but he always touches me on the back or on the arms as max” Gladio continued, lowering the voice to almost a murmur. By when he noticed, he had walked way past the correct corridor, so he returned over his steps. “Maybe the nape, and once or twice the top of the head, but never the hands” almost as if replying to the curious glance Iris was giving her, he continued. “I mean, I can understand the back and the nape and the arms. There’s just…hair there. There’s no way I could hurt him, neither accidentally or on purpose” he paused again, took the correct hallway this time, and sighed through the nose. “…but the hand…”

There was silence between the two for a while.   
“He hesitated” Gladio said. At first, the pause lingered so much, Iris thought he would not continue, but the beast looked down at her again. “He hesitated at first. He realized what he was about to touch and he stopped for a second, he did hesitate…but…in the end…he did it anyway…” Gladio looked away of her, but he did not seem to be looking at the hallway either, lost in thoughts. “…he did it anyway…”

Gladio walked in silence the rest of the way, eyes still nowhere at all as he mechanically made his way to his room. Iris looked at him in the meanwhile and tried to figure what the problem was. Gladio was not who he used to be; when he was turned into a beast, what he gained in physical strength he lost in emotional confidence and firmness. It was not as simple as in younger days, when she could just laugh their problems away, make some joke about it, as it always used to work on Gladio. This Gladio, more fragile and unstable…one needed to be more careful when talking to him. Like walking on thin ice, never sure where it’s fine to step and where it will collapse. 

After a while of thinking, and as they were arriving to the doors of Gladio’s room, she tried to come up with something to start untying the problem.  
“But…that’s not bad, is it?” Iris asked him. “I think that he touched you because he wasn’t scared that you’d accidentally or purposefully would hurt him. Maybe nervous, of course, but if he did it anyway, that’s because…well, he trusts you now. Right?”

Gladio’s ears flapped up, but other than that, he did not move at all, not even the eyes. He stopped in front of the doors of his room and stayed quiet and still. The teapot on his hand looked at him, smiling at first, but the more that Gladio spent in silence, the more that Iris worried, until her happy expression turned to concern.   
“He…trusts me…” Gladio whispered, lowering the head.   
“I mean, more than a month ago, at least” Iris hurried to say. “Like, sure, he was nervous, but I think that’s normal. I think he started growing it after you saved him from those daemons, but it’s only now that you two are being friendly and spending your time together that it’s starting to…become solid, to put it some way. Just give him more time and that trust will grow and grow, you’ll see. But…yeah. That’s what I think. Even if it’s not full yet, I think that…he trusts you firmly enough by now. Don’t you think?”

Gladio did not reply for a good while; he stayed quiet and only looked down at nowhere at all. Iris, once more, was smiling at him feeling she had finally cheered things up, but her brother did not respond as she had hoped. He only stared at nowhere at all, eyes lowered.   
“He trusts me…” Gladio whispered again, like it was the only thing he could say now. Iris waited in silence, see if maybe he had anything else to add, but the beast only blinked and stared at nowhere, as if not comprehending. 

After a while, with a worried look, she waited and looked at him, giving him some time, before she dared ask it.  
“Gladdy…” she murmured. “Why does that…upset you? Is that a bad thing?”

The beast continued to stare at nowhere at all. After a long pause, he turned to look at the teapot on his hand. They held eye contact for a while, doing nothing else but stare at each other. Gladio, then, smiled at her. He snorted quietly, closed the eyes, widened his smile, and shook the head. He lifted his other hand and used the tip of one of his fingers to rub the top of Iris’ head.   
“It’s not a bad thing, no” he murmured. He let go of her head and opened the door with his free hand. 

Once in his room, Gladio gently dropped her at her usual spot where she kept a cushion. She obediently hopped her way to it and snuggled into it. Gladio, as usual, petted her as gently as he could, but forgot to say goodnight. Instead, he walked to his bed and he sat on its edge, facing her, but with the eyes focused on his lap.

He brought his right hand up again and looked at it.   
He could almost swear it glowed with a beautiful ethereal light where Ignis had touched him…

While staring at his hand, turning it, and unable to take the eyes off it, Gladio’s smile widened.

“It’s just…that it’s a very beautiful feeling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anything feels unnecessary or really too slow, please do feel free to tell me. I want to make this enjoyable for you people. 
> 
> Thank you for still being here. This would be nothing and I would have dropped it long ago without your guys' support. Thank you so much! And I promise to try to not take so awfully long from now on. :)


	27. Literature Buddies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all because I didn't expect all the comments asking me to rest well and take it easy due to my surgery recovery.
> 
> Thank you for being so dearly patient with me!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The morning after the day Ignis put extra enthusiasm in the gardens, the unexpected yet unavoidable happened.

It had been stewing in for many, many weeks now, months even. Ever since Ignis started staying in his current room and after he started growing trust enough to know the beast was not going to chop him in pieces while he slept. And it was finally giving the expected results.

Noctis did it on purpose, getting pajamas for Ignis a size bigger than were needed. Lunafreya helped him to pick the softest, too. That was all that they could do for him; the rest depended on Ignis, whether he did it consciously or not.   
Ignis had already noticed it was happening; he slept in a bed two or three times bigger than the one where he had slept all his life, fifty times the softer, with bedsheets and blankets equally soft and warm, with pillows like cotton, but with a softer, silkier texture, and he was wearing the most comfortable pajamas he had ever worn in his life. They had once belonged to some noble, after all. They fit him slightly big and loose, enough to make him feel much lighter than usual. Much more comfortable. 

But what was more important; Ignis had been taken from his schedules.

It was no mystery or secret that he over-overworked in his daily life back in town; his activities are well known by now.   
But now he had none of that.  
Back in town, due to his activities and his ill father, Ignis woke up much earlier than anyone, and went to bed far, far later than everyone else. He had to be places at certain hours and spend there certain amounts of time. But not anymore; all the activities he had in the Citadel, all he made up himself to keep body and mind busy. But there was no one that could chide him if he was late; no one to fire him; literally no consequences if he was late to anything, or even if he skipped anything. 

In reality, even as busy as Ignis kept himself with training, cooking, gardening, cleaning, and reading, Ignis was _free_ and had no responsibilities or obligations. And some sly part of his brain was _very_ conscious of that. 

The impossibly silky pajamas, plus the soft and comfortable bed, plus the slow subconscious realization that he had no real obligations and that he could take it easy, plus the last drop to spill the glass (the overworking in the gardens the previous day), it all led to the one thing that Ignis never thought he would make in many, many decades, maybe even never. 

It could have come off as unimportant to anyone else, but not to the clock-candelabra duo. No one better than them (and Gladio, maybe) knew how extremely much Ignis pushed himself each day. It was not healthy. The man needed and deserved to rest; if not a particularly long night, he did deserve to wake up at a normal hour every day and drop all the overwork madness.   
The mere fact that Ignis had started to wake up a minute later each day that passed was already a success. That he decided this, it was like a double win; he was sleeping more than usual, yes, but it also meant that, even if Ignis had yet not noticed, he was already letting go of the anxiety that made him wake up before the sun, same which made him overwork every second, and he was finally learning to be calm and to do nothing. All expressed in one simple, daily, and apparently unimportant thing.

That morning, Ignis decided to sleep in. 

It was a conscious, rational decision. He woke up at his usual ridiculously early hour. The outside was still mostly dark; the room was very quiet, only interrupted by the ‘tick tack’ of the clock that slept on the chair. And said tick tack gave Ignis a thought he never thought he would have.  
 _’It’s so early. Ten minutes more…’_

For the first time in more than a literal _decade,_ Ignis laid back down on the bed, put the head on the pillow, closed the eyes, sighed, and went back to sleep. Two hours more. 

It took months, but Ignis was finally learning that it was fine to take it easy, and to simply…rest.

The world was not going to end if he woke up a little later.

\--

“If you can’t make the tomato fit somewhere, just leave it on a side and I’ll do it, okay?”  
“Gotcha.”

The day was mildly clouded. There was light enough to know the sun was there, but it was clearly not the summer sun anymore. The seasons were always very well defined in Eos; only some days into Fall, the weather and the world had already dressed up fully for it. Orange and brown had taken the crown on the trees in the gardens and in the forest beyond the outside walls of the castle, in contrast to the still green grass that carpeted it all from the first steps into the gardens and as far as the eye could see. The wind was gradually becoming chillier, but it was still gentle enough to not require of any winter clothing.

Especially when one was physically active. Working in the little orchard as he was, Ignis did not mind the slightly-colder-than-last-week wind. He was keeping his body temperature warm no troubles.  
And he had not a single doubt that the wind was not giving any problem to Gladiolus. The man had spent the past weeks caressing his fur daily; no one better than him knew how soft and warm it was. Ignis had had very little interaction with animals in the past, but he was sure that there was no creature that could rival Gladio when it came to the softness and warmth of the fur. He was like a bear, but softer; like a cat, but fluffier. He was sure that those brown locks would make the softest and most incredible of beds, blankets, or pillows to have ever existed and yet to be invented.

He wondered if Gladio was aware of that fact, of how unique and beautiful his fur was. He had paws and claws and hands very different to that of human skin, so even if he had touched his own fur in the past, Ignis wasn’t sure that the beast could feel how truly warm and soft and fluffy it was. The best part was that one wouldn’t notice until they touched it; Gladio did not look fluffed up, he just looked hairy. So, Ignis thought, if there were other people in the castle, only _he_ would know about his fur and no one else would want to approach them because they had no idea how beautiful it was. It was sort of lucky, though, that there was no one else; if other people knew about Gladio, there could be bad, malicious people that would like to be the one to hunt down this unique and rare specimen, and it would only be worse if they knew about his fur. Ignis did not doubt that it could be sold as very valuable, worthy of kings and queens or emperors. Thank the Astrals there were no more kings, queens, or emperors in the world. And thank the Astrals no one knew about Gladio…

A little shaken at the thoughts he was suddenly having, Ignis closed the eyes and subtly sighed to take himself out of them. He would forever be amazed at how easily his mind could trail off to negative and horrible thoughts. People hunting Gladio? Selling his fur? What sort of horrible, terrible thoughts was his mind having?  
At least, Ignis guessed, the thoughts made him feel afraid and worried. That meant he cared about Gladio in some way. It felt good…that he no longer felt the desire to see the beast dead. Caring for someone was…much more complicated and stressful. But it was, at the same time, even more wonderful, and more beautiful…

Ignis was aware that he was, as usual, thinking things too much and stressing for things that were not even happening, so he sighed to calm down and put his mental feet back on the ground, back to his present, in the little orchard he had worked so hard on, and that each certain days offered different vegetables.

It had become usual that Gladio would help him with gathering them and help him carry them to the pantries, as he was doing that one day. The human turned to look at his friend, see how he was doing, and could not help a smile while watching Gladio work.

True, that he was a little dumb. It was like Gladio sometimes forgot about his own huge size, or like he was not used to his own feet and hands, but he tried his best. And the cutest part about trying his best was that Gladio tried to be _soft._ In everything he did, Gladio was trying very hard to be gentle enough to not accidentally ruin it. If he did not seem very used to his feet and hands, he did seem very conscious of his own strength, so he was hyper conscious of how incredibly soft he had to be. And, if Ignis had to admit it to himself, the sight he offered was rather cute.  
The beast was down on his ankles, like a child trying to look closely at a butterfly but being careful as to not scare it, grabbing the vegetables one by one with slow and gentle paws, like they were made of fragile crystal that would shatter at the first wrong breath or touch. 

Watching the beast in such a position, putting all his focus in the sole and simple task of grabbing a tomato, it was truly _adorable._ Mostly because of how incongruous it was; the beast was an imposing, huge, terrifying figure, as contrasting to his naïve, innocent, adorable actions and poses. Ignis, from his own spot in the tiny orchard, moved a hand up to hide the mouth behind a few fingers, and he subtly and shortly laughed, not amused, rather only moved by the cute sight. As focused as he was in the task, Gladio did not hear him, and finished grabbing the tomato. That was the first half, the second half was literally _waddle_ his way, still down on his ankles, towards the basket to put it there, all while he stared intensely at tomato as if breaking eye contact with it would make the vegetable explode. Ignis did find that amusing, and he laughed a little more. Oh, dear Gladio, he was not very useful in careful tasks like this, but what a joy it was to have him around... 

“There” Gladio said in a little and happy exhale when he managed to gently drop the tomato in the basket, leaving it intact. He was smiling and looking at the vegetable like a child; sure, it could be a very simple task, but not to him. To him, in his perception of the world, this was a big achievement. So, Ignis only saw it natural to cheer him on.  
“Good job, Gladio” Ignis said from his spot, smiling. The beast turned to look at him, smile growing more than before, and he showed a thumb up to him. Ignis smiled a little more widely as response and nodded once. While Gladio stood up to go look for another vegetable to take, Ignis retook his own work as well. 

Both shared very little conversation, but shared some, at least. The first times, they had stayed mostly in silence, and when they did talk, it was always a little tense, a little awkward, both too shy to be entirely calm, and too scared to make a wrong comment. Whether they noticed or not, the facts were that their conversations had started to flow a little more, and both had stopped overthinking what they said and simply rolled with what felt natural, because it was starting to become so. Both were starting to overcome that fear of annoying or upsetting the other, in the only way it could happen; together. 

They never spent too long in the orchard, due to how small it was. That day was no exception. After some minutes gathering things, they had put every eatable thing in the basket and there was nothing left to do there for the next couple days, as usual.  
Standing next to the basket, Ignis sighed and put his hands to his waist. Gladio, standing nearby, looked at him.  
“We did a good job” the man said and turned to look at the beast, offering a friendly smile. “Thanks for the help, Gladio.”  
“Thanks for letting me help” Gladio replied, with slight embarrassment. “I know I can be a bit slow at this, but…”  
“No, no” Ignis shook the head softly but, unlike the first weeks of friendship, this time he did not panic about hurrying. “You do great.”  
“…thanks” Gladio said a bit shyly, but offering a very proud smile in response. All that Ignis could do was feel a little touched and smile back at him, tenderly. 

Shortly after that small exchange of words, Ignis let out a subtle sound of surprise when he was pushed from behind, soft enough to not throw him down, but with enough strength to make him take a step ahead to keep balance. It took him off guard only at first, but he knew that push very well; he was already smiling and turning around before hearing the first little snort from the mare that stood behind him.   
“Hey, baby girl” Ignis greeted his mare sweetly as he grabbed her face. Gloved hands started caressing through the animal’s hair and head. “How are you doing today, Nox?” expecting no answer, Ignis gently grabbed her face again and rested his forehead on hers, closing the eyes for a moment and hands still softly stroking her skin. “You, spoiled creature…”

Ignis continued gently rubbing her neck and head, talking lowly and sweetly at her, oblivious to Gladio’s staring on him. The beast watched him as if it was the first time he saw these two interact; a little moved, and content. The way Ignis treated animals was incredible. Prompto used to say a lot that someone that was good to animals could not possibly be a bad person. Maybe they should have given some pet to Ignis the first days as a test, and so Gladio would not have taken so many months on figuring out that Ignis was an angel in a human body. He did not have many approaches to domestic animals, but he was incredibly good to his mare. He always spoke so sweetly and tenderly to her, always attended to her. It was incredible how long Ignis could spend bathing and brushing and petting her. If love was material, Nox would be covered under a mountain of Ignis’ love for her, and it always seemed to be reciprocate.

Gladio really liked to stare at Ignis as he attended to his mare; he was always so sweet and so dear with her. Watching Ignis show affection was very rare, so it was only natural that Gladio felt curious and terribly attracted to witnessing those few moments in which Ignis was all tender smiles, soft sweet words, and gentle hugs and stares. Ignis looked so happy and loving in those moments…it was a beautiful sight, and one that Gladio was not willing to stop looking at. How he wished Ignis could look like that all the time; so full of joy and affection. So radiant of it, in his own very gentle, very quiet way. 

The mare had approached only to claim his attention, as was usual. At times she paced on her own, but there were times when she heard Ignis nearby and went to give him a push with the nuzzle as if saying ‘Hey, it’s been 24 hours since you last pet me, how dare you!’. She really seemed like a spoiled pet, but she was incredibly well behaved, and loyal to Ignis. 

Gladio continued staring for a while, wondering what was it that made mare and man so connected. Clearly, Nox was not a random horse Ignis rented for his travel to the castle. He wondered how long they had been together, enough for both to love each other so much, enough for the mare to be so loyal to him. Motivated by the curiosity, Gladio dared ask him.  
“Hey, Ignis?”  
“Hm?” the man looked over his shoulder at him, smiling, and hands still petting the animal. Nox merely swung the tail and let Ignis’ gloved hands do as they wanted.   
“Nox” Gladio said and pointed at the mare with a slightly shy claw. “How did you…what I mean is…” the beast hesitated and looked down for a moment, and scratched slightly behind one of his ears. “I’m…curious. As in, when you got her or such…”  
“Ah” Ignis’ smile grew for a moment, and he turned slightly so he was facing mostly Gladio, but without giving his back to the mare either, to continue petting one while talking to the other. “Nox was a gift to the family. She was born in our yard; the mother belonged to a merchant friend of my father.”

Gladio nodded, but stared slightly down at the mention; whenever Ignis’ dad came up in conversation, the beast felt a little awkward. It was only a reminder of how much of a barbarian he had been with both of them, and how it was his fault that father and son were separated. Ignis, on the other hand, never seemed to put much thought into it nor did he become too awkward, like nothing had happened.  
“The merchant was a neighbor, so there were no problems on taking the pregnant mare to our house” Ignis continued. “My father told me that his friend told him back then that he thought I could use a friend; mum had already passed away, and while I had Flamma, my cat, I didn’t…” the man paused there. His hands continued petting the horse, who snorted lowly. “I didn’t have many friends. I’ve always been sort of an introvert, and my father’s friend thought that maybe opening up to animals could help me open up to people as well.”

The beast nodded. Ah, yes, introverts. Gladio had never been one, but Noctis was the most introvert person that he had ever known. It had been very exasperating dealing with him at first, but it was thanks to and through him that Gladio learned how to treat that sort of people. They were not moody or weird or quiet…they only needed some…trust. A bit of confidence; they did not need you talking all day in their ears, they only wanted you to sit two yards from them, until they grow comfortable, and decide to finally start talking to you, and they alone start sitting two yards, then one and half, then one yard, and then right next to you.   
Could he offer that to Ignis, though…? He could sit those two yards in between, but…well, with that monstrous appearance, the chances that someone would _want_ to sit closer to him… 

“I was ten” Ignis continued, and the smile on his face when he said that, and the way he stared at the mare with so much innocence and joy, it made Gladio forget his earlier train of thoughts, and made him smile as well. “Nox was tiny when she was born. For a horse, of course. We grew up together. I spent all my free time with her, all the time. We would run together all the time, play together, everything. I think my days with Nox and Flamma have been my happiest so far.”  
Gladio did not doubt that; while he spoke, Ignis was radiant of true joy. There was something on his expression that made him seem younger and so full of life. The beast smiled while watching the man give his attention back to the mare, holding her head and rubbing his forehead against hers.

Gladio smiled while Ignis got distracted. While they were back in that silence, the beast remembered about Lady Lunafreya; back when Gladio had first given permission to the man to wander about in the gardens as he pleased, the first thing he did was to yell his mare’s name. While Ignis got distracted with the animal, Lady Lunafreya got close to thank Gladio for such a ‘kind action’, and mentioned the casual comment that the mare had her family’s name. Once more motivated by curiosity, this time even more intense, Gladio broke the silence again.  
“And why did you name her Nox?” Gladio asked. “Or was it your…your father who named her?”  
“Ah, no, it was me” Ignis said, looking at the beast once more while only one hand continued caressing the mare’s neck. “I named her Nox because…”

Ignis paused in there. He stared slightly down, clearly occupied in his own thoughts. He spent quite a while in silence staring at nowhere, thinking. His eyebrows furrowed and he still thought and thought.  
“It was…” Ignis said lowly. “I remember naming her after someone important…”  
Princess Lunafreya, Gladio thought immediately. What a coincidence! Lady Lunafreya had made a casual comment, and it turned out to be much more accurate than she had thought. Gladio made a mental note to tell her later; he wanted to see her reaction. What a small world!  
“Hm…” Ignis’ eyebrows had furrowed to the point he was almost frowning, trying his best and a bit too intense to put his finger on it. “…I think it was someone I…admired…”  
Yeah, it had to be the princess. Everyone admired her! Though thinking about it, and doing the math, she had yet not become Oracle by the time Ignis said Nox was born, so there were rarely news on her. If there were news on anyone that would be the king, the queen, or-

“I’m sure it was someone I looked up to…” Ignis murmured after a while, staring up this time, eyes looking for the answer in the clouds somewhere. Gladio smiled a bit awkwardly at him, even when the man was not staring.  
…so long Ignis had not named the mare after that stupid jerk of prince Ravus, everything was fine. And not that Gladio hated him or anything, but the guy had been so rude last time he visited. He thought he was the great thing just because he defeated Gladio _once._ Pscht. Lady Lunafreya was clearly a much more inspiring figure, and Gladio decided Ignis definitely named his mare after her or the king or queen. Ravus. Definitely not a foe or an enemy, but he was definitely a rival. What a jerk, that Fleuret prince. If things had never gone wrong, if the curse or the Nif invasion had never happened, Gladio would have definitely aimed to defeat the Nox Fleuret prince at some point in his life. He needed to smash that ego and that stupid, lifeless face of that asshole of- prince Jerkvus.

The beast stared at the mare again, this time uncomfortable. Ugh…the idea that the pet of his new and dear friend could be wearing a name in honor of his rival, that would be quite an awkward coincidence, and one he sure hoped was not real…

“Wow, I can’t remember” Ignis said after a moment, finally giving up on trying to force his mind. He looked at the beast, who hurried on hiding whatever face he had to be making at the memory of stupid Ravus. “I know I named her after someone, I just don’t remember who…”  
“That’s fine” Gladio shrugged and smiled. “You were ten. It’s been a bit more than a decade, so it’s just natural you forgot.”  
“Yes…” Ignis hesitatingly agreed, looking away and clearly trying again to remember. All that Gladio did was offer a little smile. 

Realizing he had once more tried to go back to thinking, Ignis forced himself out of it before his mind trailed off, and looked back at Gladio. He smiled calmly at the beast, who once more returned the gesture. With a last smile, Ignis again looked away from him to put his attention back on the mare, both hands once more working on petting her. Even though she was calm, Ignis quietly shushed her and rested his forehead on her face again, closing the eyes, hands distractedly and slowly caressing her neck and face. 

Once sure that the man was not aware of it, Gladio stared at him and started smiling. He really adored the sight of Ignis when he was radiant of affection. Nox was the only creature who Ignis seemed to demonstrate all his love to; he enjoyed of the furniture friends’ presence, but they were relatively new friendships. Gladio was the newest friendship he had, so of course Gladio was nowhere close to receiving as much love as Ignis showed to an old time friend like Nox. The beast felt a little bad, and a little envious too; he wished that Ignis could look in his presence like he looked in presence of his mare. So sincerely happy, radiant of love, and so at peace. But, as it was a rather utopic wish, Gladio decided to not think too much about it and only focused in what he was looking at.

He smiled widely but warmly at the sight. Watching Ignis interact with his mare, it was…excessively pretty. It was sort of heartwarming as well.   
Gladio had been so sure during the first weeks of his captivity that Ignis had ice instead of a heart in his chest. But oh, how mistaken he was. There definitely was a heart in there, and not just any kind of it. It was warm, vibrant, and so full of love. It was not that Ignis could not love; he just chose who to show it to. The beast did feel a bit bad that he was not one of the chosen ones, but the good sensation he felt when he watched Ignis pamper his mare, it was bigger that the envy. So he did not stop staring; he kept the gaze locked on the man as Ignis caressed and talked in whispers with Nox, smiling tenderly and sweetly, eyes gently closed. 

Ignis was a beautiful creature as he was, but when he was this calm and joyful…it really amplified his beauty. In many ways.

That’s how Gladio spent the rest of the couple minutes the pair of friends stayed at the little orchard before taking their basket and leaving; staring and smiling at Ignis, while Ignis had all his attention in Nox. It was a soft and warm smile, and even though the action was between both man and mare, Gladio only looked at the man. 

Gladio stared all the time, tenderly. Except for the one time Ignis did look back at him; Gladio made sure to look away and pretend to be distracted with something else so Ignis would not catch him staring.

\--

It had been almost two weeks since Gladio had recommended some of his favorite books to Ignis. Back in the library, the day they finished their first book together, and had started a new one, together. Before he had asked Gladio to keep up their nightly reading, the beast had gone nuts when he learned the man had never read a novel, and he brought to him many of his personal choices. Ignis could not forget, and sometimes found himself remembering at night before sleeping, how radiant and truly excited Gladiolus was when he talked on and on about the books and how much he enjoyed of them, and what he saw in them. 

Ignis had never known someone so passionate for books…it was weird, that the most passionate for literature bookworm that he knew was not a person. But as weird as it could be, it was also…exciting. Ignis was not sure he could explain why, but hearing and watching Gladiolus talk about flowers, and even better, about books, it made Ignis feel happy and excited. It made him sort of wish to make Gladio talk about any of those matters all day long, and he had the sensation that he would not get tired of hearing and seeing him. Maybe it was the sincere joy and excitement the beast radiated when he spoke about his favorite subjects, which was too huge and pure, and hence it became contagious. Whatever it was, it was an absolute joy.

But back to the subject, Ignis had started what seemed to have been the favorite among the many books that Gladio picked for him to start with. He had taken much longer reading that one book than he had taken with any other during all the months of stay in the castle, for two reasons.  
At first, Ignis had not been comfortable or very interested. It was a romantic book. Romance was not…quite his cup of tea. 

Ignis himself had never before been interested in romance in his life. Having a partner, cuddling, kissing, all of that seemed rather unnecessary and time consuming only. What was the point of cuddling? He understood if you needed comfort, maybe you were sad, but cuddling just for the sake of it, why? And a partner was too much wasted time. He had too many jobs and duties to do to also deal with having to go out on dates with a partner. Perhaps he was too dry or he had not given himself time to philosophy properly about it, but he had always found romance as unnecessary and not appealing at all. He did not see the point of it or why people went nuts when they were single. Ignis liked it, being single. It was more productive, and quieter, and better. 

And so, naturally, he had never had any particular liking for romantic stories. Half the plays in theatres were romance and he did not see the point; he keeps the girl, now what? They were all the same, always. Boring stuff about people that did not know how to be alone and confused the necessity of filling the void with love. Pscht. 

To be honest, Ignis had not been very confident about picking up all the romantic novels that Gladiolus had lent him. He agreed partly because he was very, very open to try new things (he had accidentally poisoned and burnt himself at least thirty times in the past out of that curiosity of trying new things every time he could), and he did want, on free will, to give it a go. But the other part of why he had agreed, it was merely because he simply could not say no to Gladiolus.   
The beast’s eyes were gleamy and full of innocence and excitement when he handed him the books and as he spoke about them. He looked like a child in winter celebrations, but giving instead of receiving gifts. His eyes were so full of innocence, his whole self was radiant of such a child-like joy, and he looked so absurdly _cute_ , how would Ignis ever say no to those eyes?

Moved by the beast’s enthusiasm, Ignis found it impossible to say no. He remembered about Prompto and Noctis and how he was sure that the furniture friends could one day ask him to throw himself off the roof just for fun, and they were so cute and Ignis was too weak against them, he would comply. Apparently, the same had started to happen with Gladiolus. In a different way, but it still happened. Ignis had thought at first that it did not make sense that he was finding Gladiolus to be cute the way he considered Noctis and Prompto cute, because the beast was, in all honesty, not what one would call a pretty sight. Truth is, he was hideous.   
But then Ignis reminded himself that he did not find Noctis and Prompto to be cute only for being a clock or a golden candelabra. It was because of their behavior, their backstories (or what little he knew about them), and the way they were so sincere and pure with him what made Ignis find them so adorable.

It was the same for Gladiolus. It was not his looks what made him cute. It was…his whole self. ‘What’s inside is what counts’, clichéd and still so true, Ignis guessed with a sensation of defeat. From the first moment he was kept a prisoner he had promised to himself that he would never let the beast win. And so far he had kept it up, regarding physical battles…but he never built any defenses against Gladio’s puppy eyes. Those would be his end. It was so unfair. 

So, the first reason of why it took him so long to finish the books was, Ignis had not been very into the novel. It was good and well built, yes, but it felt a little absurd at times. Perhaps Ignis was too used to solely academic, and he was hyper conscious that what he was reading was fiction and hence fake, but he was not buying it at first. Gladio had been so excited he even accidentally let Ignis see him wriggle the tail, but, to Ignis, the book was…eh. Even disappointing; Gladio’s own excitement had lifted Ignis’ expectations, but as Ignis read into it, it was only more boring and more disappointing. He would normally read from fifty to seventy pages on a normal day, but, no matter how much he tried to keep reading the novel, he read twenty the first day, ten the next, five the next, eight, six, and so on. It was a boring read…

…until he reached chapter 3. When the protagonist discovers the love interest is a princess.

Ignis had been so disappointed and reading out of duty instead of enjoyment that he was sure that as soon as he reached the romance, things would only go downhill until hitting bottom. If the story was boring as it was, how would it get when it got to the romance, when Ignis knew he _hated_ romance? It could only get worse.  
Wrong. 

The best and worst part of everything was that Ignis did not even notice he started enjoying it. There was no plot twist, no major changes, no action in the story. A character learned something from another one that Ignis, as reader, already knew. So what was so horribly captivating?

Ignis did not notice how into the novel he was until he finished it. A few pages after chapter 3, Ignis started retaking his 50-70 pages per evening as usual, and only two days later, he read above one hundred in one day, and finished it. He entered a stage of denial in which he could not believe how fast he had finished it, and how there could not be more, and he started reading it again. It felt like he had not read it at all, that he did not put the attention he should have, and when he re-read it and reached the part where the romance started, he, once more, kept the nose buried in the book for hours and hours. He would re-read paragraphs, go back entire chapters, stop and repeat in his head, go back again, and so on and on, reading and reading. A couple times, Ignis even skipped training or gardening hours just to continue reading the book.

There was something about it that entirely captured him. Ignis read and read, but not because he could not find the reason. It was exactly because he knew what had caught his attention and what had gotten him so obsessed with the story that he could not stop reading.  
It was the love interest.  
It was the _romance._

After he learns she’s a princess, he doesn’t change his behavior towards her. He keeps thinking she’s not the great thing, but the more time they spend together, the more sincere he turns. And when she gets worried that he may be interested in her only as a prize, as the rest of her suitors, he keeps treating her the same. He doesn’t insist; he says it’s okay and that he understands if she doesn’t trust him. That she will make her choice herself, and that she doesn’t even need a man by her side. She was a strong and capable person, and needed no partner if she felt they would use her. And she loved him back, and she loved him dearly despite his social status, and he loved her because of who she was and not what she wore or her title.

It was the interaction between the two. It was his words. It was her words. It was their actions. Everything that they did and said and thought, everything was…so dear, and so greatly selfless, and so…pure. The bond that they shared and the way they acted with each other, it was so pure.   
How could something as…trivial and average as a couple…be so magical, so full of fireworks, so _alive?_

What was it? This was any other story of romance, why was Ignis so enamored of it?   
Each time he read something that the protagonist said, his heart beat like crazy. When she said something, he felt himself smile and breath softly. When they interacted, when their hands brushed each other, when they made eye contact- Ignis had had, multiple times, to close the book and bury the face in his pillow. The third time he re-read one of his favorite scenes, he kept curling up on his bed, hugged tightly to the pillow he kept pressed to his face; basically, if you asked Noctis, he would describe it as ‘whimpering while squirming hugged to his pillow, it was hilarious’. The build-up was so clichéd (or so Ignis said), so he could not comprehend why he felt like he was there; why it made his heart beat so fast, why he felt so on the edge, why he felt so anxious in a good way, and why it made him want to squirm and kick the air like he had done. 

Truth was, he hated himself so much whenever he had to drop himself somewhere and squeak. He felt like a teenage girl who got winked at by some celebrity. But it was not the same, it was not senseless hype; it was not…excitement as itself. It was only such an overwhelming load of _something_ , and the overwhelm naturally had to come out some way.

Ignis loved that the characters loved each other. He loved the interactions, he loved the dialogues. He was in love with both of them, and the things they said, the goddamn things they said, they made Ignis want to and _have_ to sit down out of weak legs and a racing heart. Once or twice, Ignis closed the book only because he thought maybe he was getting a heart attack and he was confusing it with the emotions that the book gave him, but it was not that. It was only the book. 

After many days, Ignis had put that book aside not because he did not like it after he re-read it for the fifth time, but because he was absolutely curious about the rest.   
The second book that Ignis took caused the same and greater effect in him, not because it was better (he doubted something would top Gladio’s favorite book), but because something new was happening within Ignis.

The first time he read a romance novel, he read blankly. The second time, his expression had softened on the first half, and during the second half, he was biting at the nail of his thumb and feeling tickles in his toes and in his palms. The third time, he was pacing around the room and feeling his heart race on the first third, the second third had his heart racing and dropping and the tickles were everywhere in his body, and the third-third he was made a growling mess that hugged a pillow to his face.

Each time that Ignis read a romance novel or a chapter of it, each time it became better, and each time Ignis reacted more.  
And the big realization came as he read that second novel.

This time, the protagonist was a woman, and the love interest was a man. It had started as what Ignis would call “any other romance story”. He read the first chapters as the mess he had become in days of reading romantic novels; pacing around the room and biting the nail of his thumb. The story was making him nervous because the protagonist and the love interest had not had a good start, but he was trying.   
Ignis made his discovery when he read about one of their meetings.

“My lady, the gift I sent, I didn’t send in the attempt of courting you” the love interest said at some point. “The gift I sent, I sent to make you happy. I know you don’t fancy me, and I’ve given up my hopes that you will say yes to me. I don’t send you gifts so you give me the yes. I send you gifts because I want you to receive them. I don’t want to make you happy so you love me back, I want to make you happy because you’re you. I don’t love you because you’re an option of marriage, I love you because…you’re you. What other reason do I need?” 

Ignis had stopped breathing there. His heart beat like a scared bunny inside his chest, he could feel it in the throat. He brought a hand up and put it on his chest.   
And he sighed. 

“My god” he whispered very lowly afterwards, and had an immediate first thought.  
 _I would say yes to him._

Ignis paused his reading at the sudden thought, and froze a bit in his place. A second later, his face burnt to the point he was sure he had a sun under his skin, and he started looking around the room to see if anyone had heard his thoughts. At the realization of what he had thought, he felt embarrassed, and even more embarrassed he felt when he realized that had not been the first time he thought something like that.   
Maybe he had not thought something exactly like that at first, but he realized that, ever since the second time he read the first book, he had been having thoughts that revolved around one thing. At first, the thoughts had been so subtle he had not noticed, but they had been more frequent and more explicit with each chapter of the novels that he read.

Ignis would sometimes smile and think that he would not mind if someone spoke to him like that. That he would not mind if someone gave him the kind of gifts that the protagonist received. That he would not mind having someone that said those cheesy things to him. That he would not mind accepting someone else’s invitation for a tea, for stargazing.  
That he would not mind accepting a dance with a sweet gentleman.  
Sometimes, while reading, Ignis would think that he really wouldn’t mind if he was held in arms like the couple in his books, or to hold someone in his. 

It took a while, and when Ignis realized it he felt like refraining himself. He felt too shy and embarrassed to continue reading for that day, and he went to lie facedown on his bed to hide his burning face in the pillow for the rest of the evening and the night. He hated what the books were doing to him. He hated the way his cheeks burnt in crimson red. He hated that his heart beat so fast. He hated that it felt so open and so vulnerable. And he hated the butterflies in his stomach. Those were unnecessary feelings he did not ask for and did not need, and that the books had given him anyway, without his permission, without his prior knowledge. 

What these books had done to him was more than just entertain him.   
Reading romantic novels had not only given Ignis the liking for romantic novels themselves, they had done something much, much worse. 

Those books had made him start daydreaming about…foolish, unnecessary fantasies of…people. A faceless someone coming through the door…quietly leaning against him from behind, wrapping the arms around his shoulders, and whispering in his ear a nickname reserved for only that kind of relationship. Someone…holding his hand. As they walked through the gardens, as they jumped into the fountain just for fun, as they ran together through the fields. As they danced. All across the hall, forth and back. And then only in one tiny square. Hands together. One on his shoulder, maybe on his waist, he would love either option. He started wondering what it would be like, to share a coffee with someone that he could call ‘My dear’. What it would be like to feel…fireworks with the mere brush of a pair of lips. What it would be like, to be someone’s first thought in the morning, and last at night. 

These books had cursed him: they had started to make Ignis gush at daydreaming fantasies and imaginary scenarios of someone that did not even exist. They had made him start feeling not just curiosity, but _desire._ The most innocent of its kind; the hold of a hand, an embrace, giving a flower, kissing a knuckle, a hand on his waist, fingertips on his face. Someone else’s breath stealing his own. 

Reading romantic novels was breaking through Ignis’ defenses. They had opened the only door in his heart that he had kept closed for twenty-two years so far. What Ignis had thought all his life that he could not feel, he suddenly started feeling, out of nowhere. 

Until he read those books, Ignis had no idea he was into romance, in more than just one way.

\--

After finishing the first book, Ignis’ first instinct was talking about it with someone.

He had reached for Noctis, who was almost all twenty-four hours of the day with him recently, but the clock had never read it. Ignis tried to shrug it off and let a day or two go by before his head insisted that he talked about it with someone. He could not understand why it almost felt like a necessity; sure, the book was exciting and good, but what difference did it make talking about it with someone? They would just say what the story was about, and that, he already knew. 

Still, he tried to go with Prompto. The candelabra, a bit flustered and embarrassed, accepted to have never read the book either. After being let down again, Ignis tried to not mind it much and let the days go without bringing it up with anyone. The events of Prompto asking him to pose for a portrait, and the day Ignis was late to the nightly reading with Gladio, same night in which he allowed him to help in the kitchen, those had passed while Ignis was finishing and re-reading the first book, that was how long it took for him to finish it once. Gladio had lent him the books two weeks ago, he tried and failed and slowly got into it across them, and finally started the second book by the time Gladio was helping him in the tiny orchard as usual and sharing a conversation about Nox.

It was a few days after that that Ignis made his discovery. At first, finding out that a couple of simple books had caused something so big in him as to awaken in him his long forgotten romantic feelings had inhibited him and turned him shy, reason of why he had found it not only easy but also good to not talk with anyone about the books. He felt that he would sound like an overdramatic teen daydreaming of a crush if he talked with anyone as excitedly as he felt about the books. It did not help that Noctis had seen him in his groaning-into-the-pillow-out-of-how-cute-this-paragraphs-was moment and had been teasing him. 

That was why Ignis had not felt able to bring it up in conversation with the beast. They spent a lot of time together lately, sharing table for lunch and dinner, working in the orchard every few couple days, the nightly reads, and those casual encounters around the castle that often ended in conversations of a couple minutes. Ignis _knew_ Gladio was the best and apparently only option to share opinions about the novels he had read; it was the beast himself who made the recommendations and had his own moment of uncontrollable excitement talking about the stories for a good while. He knew what the books were about, he had read them, and he liked them, he was the one Ignis had to reach for to talk with.

But he felt so terribly _shy._ What would Gladio think of him? He would see in Ignis the entire opposite of what he was; he would see him as childish, too much of a dreamer, and Ignis- he did not know the beast enough to share something as intimate as conversations about the romantic matter. True, that Ignis had no special someone, not even as an interest, but the mere fact of talking about romance was…too intimate. It sounded absurd, because there was no invasion of privacy simply because there was nothing to hide, he only had opened himself to some tiny romantic thoughts, but that was how Ignis felt. Perhaps, he analyzed, it was mostly because he had never talked about romance with anyone. He had never talked with anyone about what he found cute or what he would like because he had never found anything cute and he had not wanted anything, until Darcius and lady Mariot, and Yasmine and Naladi. 

_They’re not even real, how did not-real people get in 800 pages what real people couldn’t get in twenty-two years!?_

The month went into Fall, Ignis gathered the recent vegetables from the orchard with Gladio, sharing a conversation about his mare, and re-read one of his favorite chapters of the second book, and it broke him. Broke, at least, his stubbornness about keeping quiet. The book was too good, he _needed_ to talk about it with someone or he would combust.

One would think that, by now, Ignis would know that it is useless to try and rein something in, that it’s always inevitable for it to happen. But naïve, young Ignis still had things to learn in life.

He opened his mouth about it during dinner, unaware of the new level of bonding that he was unlocking.

Recently, Ignis had not needed to chide Gladiolus as frequently. Ignis had not noticed until he made a mental comparison of the first times he sat at the table with the beast and the more recent days. True, Gladio still had dumb hands for utensils, and he was nowhere close as to looking ‘decent’ on the human scale, but he had done a good and immense progress. He barely made any noises while chewing, and he rarely lost control of his excitement. This immense progress at self-control derived in many other progresses; because he strangely lost control now, the chances that there would be soup staining all the fur of his chin and neck or that food would be splattered all over his face had decreased on a seventy percent. Gladio had also already grown more used to utensils in some cases, and while he held them in a non-conventional way, he had found a way that was comfortable for his oversized hands (and those claws that got in the way). 

Ignis could not help but feel sort of proud at the mental comparison. He remembered to have thought the first time and many others that Gladio had no possibilities of being corrected. He was a disgusting, hideous mess that chomped onto his food like a dog who had not eaten in months, except he opened his giant mouth fully. Truly disgusting. Ignis thought many times that chiding him was leading to nowhere, but now he saw he was mistaken.   
Things only needed some patience and effort. 

He liked having dinner with the beast. It was usually after their nightly reading at the library, so the way from the library to the kitchen was usually a non-stop conversation regarding the story they were reading. They had picked up a novel that Gladio suggested, and they were still in the first few chapters. Normally, the conversations were Ignis talking about what he thought so far, and where he thought the story was going to; Gladio agreed to the things Ignis said, and questioned him a bit further into the theories he made.   
For once, the one that talked the most was Ignis, and Gladio only threw wood in the fire.  
It was cute. That Ignis talked a lot. It was a rare face of him Gladio hadn’t had many chances to see, so if he could make Ignis talk non-stop for an hour, damn, he would. 

That night, Ignis had talked almost all the way from the library to the kitchen. Even though he did not require much help in the kitchen, he had been daily allowing Gladio to do something, even if just one thing. It seemed to help with the beast’s confidence, and it harmed no one. So he continued talking while the two worked in the kitchen, and continued while he cooked and Gladio only stood nearby, listening. Once at the table, Ignis continued. Gladio talked every now and then, but because he always made more questions or comments that led Ignis to continue, it was always the human who kept going and going. At times, Ignis refrained when he felt he was speaking too much. There were times of silence as well, both focused only in eating, and of course, there were a few couple reprimands here and there, but every time it was more a reminder than a yell, and each time Gladio behaved. He rarely growled when chided, now.

They reached a point of dinner of a lingering silence. It was not uncomfortable, like the first weeks, maybe even months. It was a good sort of silence. Ignis did not blink or stare whenever Gladio made any of the unavoidable noises when chewing; he was a non-human creature, Ignis could not demand human manners. Gladio was well behaved and very respectful, and handled manners as he could, and that was enough. Gladio did not panic as often about what Ignis thought about him or if he was staring too much; the man was so kind and so impossibly understanding with him, Gladio knew that Ignis was not going to judge him. He cared. 

Both ate in silence, but comfortable in each other’s presence. Ignis was sat at one chair of distance, almost across him, like he had started doing recently. He was using the hands to eat the smaller vegetables, as he always did to stay solidary with Gladio when the beast could not use utensils. Sometimes, they glanced at each other, as if to check if the other was comfortable too, but they rarely did it at the same time. 

After a while eating in silence, Ignis felt something pulling from his sleeve, by the elbow. He glanced down; Noctis was next to him, riding on Umbra and using the dog-furniture to be tall enough to reach Ignis but not be seen from above the table. Ignis gave him a questioning look, and Noctis only nodded in the beast’s direction.  
Nervous that the beast may be seeing and could misunderstand, Ignis glanced once and made sure Gladio was busy trying to catch a bean with a fork, and looked back down.   
He gave a ‘what?’ look at Noctis. The clock used his little hands to mimic he was holding a book in hands, and he was flipping through its invisible pages, and then he nodded towards Gladio again. 

Ah. Of course.

Noctis knew about Ignis’ idea of talking with Gladio about the books.  
“Why has nobody in this whole nine-floor three-building castle read this bloody book?” Ignis was complaining after he had groaned when he asked Noctis if he knew the book and the clock had said no. “You’ve been in the castle for five bloody years, and you’ve never been curious to go to the library and grab this book? Come on, look at its color, you would have seen it from among the other billion books there are!”  
“Wow, okay, calm down, Specs” the clock put his tiny fingerless hands up. “What’s got you now?”  
“I’m sorry, Noct” the man sighed. “It’s just that I’ve asked everyone I know and no one has read this, and I- sort of wished to talk about it with someone.”  
“Talk about it with me” Noctis offered with one of his little but smug smiles.   
“I can’t, you won’t understand, I’d need to explain everything from chapter one and-”  
“Then explain it to me from chapter one.”  
“That’s not how it works, Noctis.”  
“Well, you know, it’s that or you go talk about it with Gladio” Noctis shrugged. “He’s the only one that’s read it. Why don’t you go with him?”

Ignis had stayed quiet and stared at the clock in silence for a very long and awkward while.  
“…I” Ignis had murmured. “…I’m shy.”

 

But, as Noctis had said, he had no other option. Gladio was the one that recommended the book to him, it was only logical that Ignis would talk about it with him sometime, right? So this was not weird, it shouldn’t be. Gladio was not going to make fun of him. Ignis tried to think of specifically why he felt too shy to talk about it with the beast, and his answer was, he didn’t want Gladio to know that Ignis had his own hidden romantic side. It was an irrational fear, as if talking about a novel would expose all the silly thoughts Ignis had had recently about romance and a partner, but that couldn’t happen. Glaido had no way of knowing what he thought, and even if he noticed that Ignis was the sort of guy that would like to be in a relationship someday, so what? It was- natural. New to Ignis, but it was natural in anyone, in every species actually, so this did not have to be so difficult…

Ignis struggled trying to find a way to bring this to conversation for more than that dinner. A week to be precise. But, finally, that day all the courage he gathered in the past days made him speak. 

The man glanced away of the mimicking clock and shyly towards the beast to see what he was doing. Ignis ignored Noctis’ pulls on his sleeve and pants, and picked one bean after the other in silence, until he gathered the last bits of courage.   
“…so, uhm” he started, and regretted it immediately, but there was no going back now, so even if in slight panic, he decided to continue. “I’ve…read the books” Ignis saw Gladio’s ears flap up and saw him stop chewing to look up at the man with wide and attentive eyes. It made Ignis feel his face burn a little in shyness, and he looked slightly away, hand using the fork to poke all his food. “The ones you recommended to me two weeks ago?”

“Yeah?” Gladio asked after a long pause. He was frozen in his place, eyes fully attentive on the human, and ears up. He reminded Ignis a bit of a cute dog, and while he knew the comment could be offensive, he found the thought cute and calming.   
“Yeah” Ignis said with a shy smile, heart racing, and looking at the beast again. “It took me a bit, but…I’ve read two so far.”  
“And…what did you think?” Gladio asked him carefully. “Did you…like them?”  
“Did I like them? Oh gods” Ignis paused and sighed shortly, pressing a hand to his chest, and grinning. He gestured a little with the hands and felt his heart speed up even more. “I…I don’t think I have words for what I think.”  
“Oh” the beast’s ears moved slightly down. “So you didn’t-”  
“No, on the opposite!” Ignis said a bit too loudly. “I _loved_ them.”  
“Really?” Gladio’s ears flapped up pointing to the sky again, and a grin appeared on his face.

Ignis tried to calm down; he was getting overly excited and he did not want to look like a weirdo to Gladio, so he had to control his overexcitement.   
“Yes” Ignis continued. “I admit, at first it was very difficult to start because…I was not used to this genre, and the story was not catching me, but…”  
There was a long pause after that.   
“…yeah?” Gladio tried to encourage him, eyes still wide and fully attentive on the man. Ignis’s fork very shyly and distractedly poked the vegetables, but the man was looking at the beast.   
_Stay calm, Ignis. Don’t get overly excited, it’ll be embarrassing if you do. Stay calm and talk about this as if you enjoyed in the normal measures and not like the fan mess you really are._  
“…well, then I…” Ignis was nibbling at his lower lip to try to not burst out. “…I…read chapter five, but after it…”  
“You went back to chapter three” Gladio said as a statement, a bit too loudly.  
“Oh my Six, _yes”_ Ignis let out a bit louder than he intended, dropping the fork and leaning back against his chair.   
“Oh my Six, yes!” Gladio said with a laugh, half-interrupting him, and putting the fists slightly up as if in victory.

“I was sitting there not very interested, but then when you get to chapter five and the prince starts acting strange…” Ignis started saying, leaning closer to the table and using a hand to gesture.   
“Oh gods, yes, first time I read it, it was right there- it was the trick with the apple, wasn’t it?”   
“It was the bloody trick with the apple, it was _genius!”_ Ignis exclaimed, hands coming up to grab his own head while he spoke. Gladio laughed and gave little agreements while the man talked. “And I was _so upset_ when he had the chance and he didn’t tell her and…!”  
“Ah, _fuck_ , don’t even remind me!” Gladio exclaimed, paws gesturing excitedly in the air. “I still don’t forgive him and it’s been years since I first read it, but even though I hate that bit-”  
“It’s so damn _good_ , there’s something to it that I-”  
“-and you can’t stop! Yeah, and you-“ Gladio laughed as both talked at almost the same time, both as loudly and as excited. “Right, but the bit when he’s caught and-”  
 _”Oh my god,_ when the bad guy pops out of nowhere, I swear to the gods-”  
“That was brilliant!”  
“I’ve never before been startled with a _book_ , theatre plays, of course, but to jump out in fear by reading? Astrals-”

“I almost drop the book!” both exclaimed at the same time, stayed quiet, and then, like little children, they senselessly got excited over the coincidence of having said the same at the same time, pointed at each other with silly, giant grins on their faces, and started laughing, one in his usual quiet and slightly timid way, and the other with those dorky snorts and loud noises. 

Somewhere nearby, riding on Umbra, Noctis stared at them with a smile but furrowed eyebrows, while Prompto, at his side, happily chuckled and stared joyfully at man and beast.  
“Now that you’ve read it I can talk spoilers, right?” Gladio asked the man after their laughter faded. The man gave a quiet agreement. “Right. So remember the huge allegory that I thought it was? I think that the book, when you look at it that way, it can talk about- like…the journey of life. Like, not an epic adventure with heroes, just- personal growth. Like one huge metaphor about life, and all the characters have some other meaning.”  
“Oh Six, yes, I remember you told me so when I re-read the book-”  
“You read it twice!?”  
“I read it _five_ bloody times, this book has _consumed my soul-”_  
“I’ve read it ten times, too, oh my _gods”_ the beast groaned and leaned backwards on his chair, almost making it fall backwards with him still in it, hands covering his face. “It’s just so _good!”_  
“I thought it was weird to re-read it immediately after you’re done, but- my, now I understand you and that you’ve read it ten times is perfectly understandable, I mean-”  
“-and the princess is so _cute_ , fuck!”  
“-and I was- oh my gods, yes, like the one bit where she’s- the scene of the balcony and-”  
“-with the flower and-”  
“Ah, _yes!”_  
“Yes!” Gladio cheered again and could not help a laugh of excitement.

Both man and beast started talking non-stop about the story; for each subject that they brought up, they digressed on different matters two, three times, lost the first thread, and most times did not even finish a starting idea out of how far into digressing they had gone. Both talked much more loudly than usual, exclaimed, gestured in the air with the hands, leaned backwards or forwards in their seats at different comments, even growled out of excitement or loss of words as they talked. Ignis had long forgotten about containing his over-excitement, simply because Gladio had not controlled his own; his excitement was so pure and so great, it became contagious and Ignis merely went on with it. If Gladio was as excited as he was, yelling as much as he was, and in fan-mode as he was, then there was nothing wrong with doing the same.

From nearby, Prompto and Noctis still watched in silence with the same expressions than before.  
“Oh my” the candelabra said with a little laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Ignis talk this much…”  
“See, I _told_ them” Noctis said as if nagging. “I told Gladio all the time, I told you all that these two would be great literature buddies if they gave it a chance. But did they listen to me? Yes. But how long did it take? They had to wait until almost killing each other then not really then again then not again and go through like two years before _finally_ talking about books.”  
“I’m pretty sure it’s not been two years, Noct.”  
“And is anyone saying thanks? No” Noctis continued complaining, but Prompto only laughed quietly next to him. “Hey Noct. You were right, Noct. It was as simple as talking about books, Noct. We’re literature buddies now, Noct. Like you said, Noct. We’re best friends now thanks to you, Noct. Thank you, Noct. Pscht” the clock moved to sit down on top of Umbra to pet him. “Why do I even bother…?”

Prompto laughed again, and then complained when Umbra suddenly started walking, dropping the candelabra flat on his back. Prompto was complaining that he wanted to stay to see what else they talked about, but Noct only argued that “they’ll only fanboy about books like the nerds they are, and if I’m going to bore myself out to sleep I’d at least rather do it somewhere more comfy”. 

Gladio and Ignis did not notice the leaving trio, not even despite the loud complaints from the candelabra; beast and man were still immersed and entertained with talking about the novel. Hands flew around, they laughed together, shared their thoughts, discussed about the plot and characters, shared favorite characters and reasons, and both went on. Talking about books gave them no end; Gladio had always been a bookworm, and while Ignis adored reading too, he had never had the time or the friend to talk with about the stuff he liked, and now that he had gotten so into romantic novels, he could not stop himself from talking endlessly about his new interest.

They got so into it, they spent almost an entire extra hour at the table.  
An entire extra hour only laughing, talking, and sharing opinions together, talking non-stop.

Their dishes were almost empty and what remained in them was long ago cold and forgotten. It was precisely due to the dishes, almost but not quite completely empty yet, that they stopped and realized how long they had spent there.  
Ignis was first to notice; Gladio always left the dishes shiny clean (the first weeks, Gladio would literally take the bowl or dish and _lick_ everything off it, to the very last microscopic germ of the food), so when he looked down at the beast’s dish during a short pause in which both laughed at a comment of a character of their novels and found a few hints of food still there, Ignis realized they had long, long ago stopped eating.

The man had already thought about another comment to continue the literature conversation, but he looked down at his own dish and saw he still had a few things to eat, that he hadn’t touched in over an hour.   
_…Astrals above. What are we doing?_  
Ignis felt a few tickles behind the cheeks, before they grew more intense to the point he had to cover his mouth shyly and slowly in an attempt to also cover the red cheeks.  
Had he just…really vomited all those words out? Had he really let himself go into ‘fanboy’ mode and ranted so overly-excited in front of Gladio that he literally _forgot_ to finish his dinner?

Oh, gods. The embarrassment. 

“Is everything okay, Ignis?” the beast asked from his chair, still with a smile that was reminiscence of their earlier conversation, as if excited to continue.   
“Oh- ahm…yes, I just…” Ignis shook the head and tried looking up at Gladio, but he felt too shy to make eye contact and thought that the beast would notice his red cheeks, so he looked slightly down and away again. “…I…noticed…” he paused shortly. “Our food. It’s gotten cold…”  
“A-ah…” Gladio looked down at his own dish, as if not having realized until just now that the man said it.   
“Yeah…”

Both fell into some awkward silence. Ignis continued thinking about the embarrassment of having let himself go in such an improper, non-elegant “children” rant only because he could not do something so basic like controlling his excitement, and Gladio secretly shared the same problems, feeling rather humiliated by thinking the usual ‘what will he think about me’. Both over-worried about the other’s opinion on themselves, both thought about the food they had not finished but still wanted, but how awkward it would be to continue now as if nothing had happened, and both thought about for how long and how…well, how nicely and comfortably they had talked. It was clearly longer than anything they had talked about before, and it was…not exactly new, as each day that they talked their time together grew more and more, but this was the first time they gave a giant step as to making it one hour longer than usual.

Both poked what was left of their food, waiting for the other to eat it first to know if it was not awkward or strange, but because both waited, none dared do it.  
“I…don’t you- don’t you want some more, Ignis?” Gladio asked carefully, looking up at him with his big and innocent eyes.   
“Ah- no!” Ignis hurried a bit more loudly than he had wanted. “No” he lied again. “I’m fine. Uhm…and don’t you?”  
“No!” Gladio hurried in the same nervous way. “No, I’m- fine. Full and satisfied.”  
“Okay” Ignis murmured with a little and shy smile, that Gladio tried to return with an overly happy and giant grin in an attempt to lighten the mood, and only making it a bit worse. But it was the intention what made Ignis smile wider and more sincerely, and feel more calm about the awkwardness. “Well, in that case…it’s gotten pretty late, so we should…”  
“Ah…yes” the beast agreed in a murmur, not needing that the man finished his words. 

Gladio took his dish as carefully as he could in his usually clumsy hands, and offered to take Ignis’ too. The beast usually didn’t do it, and Ignis had thought it was because he was a brute and rude thing that lacked manners, but he was starting to suspect, now that he had learned with the past months that Gladio was hyper aware of his dumb hands and feared to cause any harm in any way, that it was not that; that maybe Gladio never offered to take both dishes because he only feared to break them, or maybe even hurt Ignis by accident when the man would hand him the bowl…  
 _We’re so fast to judge at first impressions, and so slow at accepting we were wrong…_

A bit proud of seeing Gladio progressing so nicely on manners and getting over his fear of causing a mess, but keeping it secret, Ignis handed him his dish with a ‘Thank you’, and helped to clean up the table. As usual, they left the dishes for the morning, and both left the kitchen together, like every night.

To not make the way to the staircases awkward, Gladio brought up some conversation again about the books, and Ignis joyfully joined immediately, if with less explosive excitement than before.  
The problem was that even if it was with less explosiveness, it was still about books. And so the conversation, once started, went on and on, even when they reached the staircase.

A couple of furniture pieces looked out of other rooms or behind somewhere to the source of the voices; it was not rare that Gladio and Ignis talked while on the way to their rooms, but they sounded particularly happy that night, and it got a couple curious glances that they didn’t notice.   
Both went upstairs slowly while talking and sharing some laughs, sharing thoughts and opinions. They stopped at the landing, as they sometimes did, to continue the conversation. It went on and on, both even leaned against opposite railings to rest the feet a bit for tiring by standing for so long in there. 

It was not an hour like back at the dining room, but they sure took quite a while standing in the same spot. Iris, who sometimes waited upstairs for Gladio, got too bored of waiting that night and hopped to his room herself. Noctis and Prompto had long ago left for Ignis’ room, and the clock already had spent an hour asleep on his usual chair.   
“And really, it’s not the big thing but I think you’ll like it” Gladio was saying after their long and still on-going conversation. “Same author, handles more or less the same subjects, so yeah.”  
“I’ll definitely have to go look for that book, then” Ignis agreed. “But I still have a few of your recommendations, the latest ones. So maybe that one will wait.”  
“That’s fine, it’s not going anywhere” Gladio smiled, and the man returned the gesture. “And if you ever not find something, you tell me, okay?”  
“I thank your kindness, Gladio” Ignis smiled again, offering a little nod. “And I also thank you for all the wonderful recommendations. I used to hate the word ‘Romance’ because it sounded so…cliché and so cheesy, but now I see I was wrong.”

Gladio smiled softly at those words and stayed quiet, looking with tenderness at the man standing in front of him.  
“I used to think that I hated romance as a literary subject, but truth is I had never tried it before” Ignis sighed shortly. “We’re so fast to judge before knowing the real thing…”  
“Yeah…” Gladio murmured, lowering the eyes. The way he said that single word made Ignis look up at him, because it had sounded like Gladio was suddenly talking about something else. Just by looking at him, Ignis’ heart skipped a beat not out of excitement but rather…some guilt. It was pretty obvious, by what he had said and what Gladio had replied, what the beast was talking about. It reminded Ignis of how cruelly he had treated the beast in the past, how fast he judged him before giving him a chance.   
_Why do I always have to see metaphors in everything?_

“Yes…” Ignis quietly agreed and lowered the eyes as well. Both stayed quiet for a bit, before the man decided to break the silence, and cleared his throat. “Anyway, what I mean to say is…thank you for opening me to romance. It was something I quite didn’t expect I would enjoy as much as I’m doing. Thank you.”  
“Ah…yes, pleasure is mine” Gladio said a bit nervously, but smiling. “I’ve never had a buddy to talk about these books before, so really it was just selfish on my side. I wanted to turn you to the dark and pink side that is romance so I could have a buddy to freak out with, and I succeeded, young apprentice.”

The comment earned a laugh from Ignis, who had almost stopped covering his mouth every time he laughed.  
“Well, what a pretty way of being selfish, then” Ignis said with a smile. “It’s a pleasure talking about books with you. We must do it more often.”  
“Yeah, that would be entirely my pleasure!” Gladio cheered a bit too loudly, eyes open wide, and the tail wriggling behind himself. “Anytime you want to talk about books- really, don’t hesitate to come my way!”  
“I won’t” Ignis smiled brightly. _Now that I know I’m comfortable with you, I won’t hesitate ever again about going your way._   
“I’d actually love to continue talking right now” Gladio said with a smile. “You haven’t finished telling me about your favorite character from The Brightest Gift, and I still want to know your opinion about the ending. But it’s gotten pretty late and I don’t want to keep you up.”  
“Well, we could continue at breakfast.”

Ignis delivered the comment so naturally and casually, it took him many seconds to realize what was wrong with it. Gladio did notice as soon as he said it, his little ears twitching and looking attentive in some way, and smile suddenly gone. The beast was looking at him with slightly wide and confused child-like eyes that looked at him almost as if expecting him to finally notice what had happened. Ignis only stared back, no smile either, out of confusion as to what had been wrong. They ate together, right? So what was wrong about-  
“Ah” Ignis realized, and felt his cheeks turn slightly red. “Yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…I forgot we don’t…” he pressed the lips thin for a second, back to feeling awkward. “I meant lunch. I forgot we don’t take breakfast together, I’m sorry…”  
“It’s…fine if you want to, though…”

Ignis looked up at the beast again, quiet and as if not sure what Gladio meant. On his side, Gladio looked at him rather shyly, hands holding each other and head slightly down in an almost pitiful pose, like a chided and scared child.   
“I mean…” Gladio said lowly and looked to a side. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, you must have your reasons to not have breakfast together, maybe you’d rather sleep more and I wake too early, or the other way around, or maybe you just want privacy and that’s fine, I won’t question you, I was just…offering, because…you said we shouldn’t just assume things so maybe that’s not the case and I only wanted to…try. I guess” the beast shrugged timidly and tried keeping eye contact with the man, only to get it, break it, get it and repeat over and over a couple times. “It’s fine if you don’t want to, though…”

Ignis stayed quiet and only looked at him, not sure he was following. It took him a few seconds to grasp it, and then he shook his head in tiny but rapid movements.  
“No, no, I mean…” he started, slightly confused and staring down while arranging his thoughts. He looked up at Gladio again when he continued. “I always just…assumed that _you_ didn’t want to have breakfast together…”  
“What?” Gladio’s ears flapped slightly up, and he frowned slightly. “Why would I not want to? If it was on me-” _I’d love to spend all day with you_ “…I’d love to!”  
“What?” Ignis asked, tilting the head slightly.  
“You’re a great companion at the table” Gladio said, if a bit shyly. “I enjoy eating with you. Even if you nag me sometimes…” there was a pause in there, but not an uncomfortable one. The comment felt cute rather than sad, and it made Ignis smile slightly but also blush subtly. “Why did you think I wouldn’t want to have breakfast with you? Wait, is that the only- is that the only reason we don’t have breakfast together? You thought I didn’t want to? I thought _you_ didn’t want to!”

“Astrals…” Ignis let out in a sigh, shaking the head and rolling the eyes, but smiling nonetheless. “See, this is the kind of misunderstandings I’ve insisted we clear up without fear, how many months have we gone running away of each other in the mornings due to a mutual and wrong assumption?”  
“Hey, don’t ask _me,_ do you know how difficult it is to read you?” Gladio asked and, while it was a complaint, it made both smile and it even earned a chuckle out of Ignis, which made the beast grin. “How was I supposed to know I could ask you for breakfast?”  
“I cook lunch and dinner, I _assumed_ that if you wanted, you could have asked me anytime” Ignis argued back, but neither stopped smiling or finding it amusing. “So is it fine?”  
“What?” Gladio asked, a little startled of the sudden change in conversation. 

Ignis let a pause linger so the previous funny air could cool into a more serious one, and hence making it easier for both Gladio to understand and for Ignis to ask it more seriously. After the short pause, Ignis smiled less amused and more warmly.  
“Is it fine…if we start having breakfast together, too?” he asked softly and with that horribly warm and cute smile of his. The question and the way Ignis was looking at him made Gladio tense a little, and his ears moved up, pointing at the ceiling. He froze for a moment, and felt his heart skip a beat. 

It made him nervous, truth be told, that Ignis was asking that. How…how _much_ Gladio had craved for breakfast with him, how much he had wanted to ask him for it, and how _sure_ Gladio had been that Ignis had no desire of it. And now it was Ignis himself asking Gladio to have breakfast together?   
_You can’t just ask me like it doesn’t send my heart racing like a scared bunny …_  
 _Even less when you just look like that._  
 _Even less when you smile at me like that._  
What was it? Was Gladio nervous? Was he just overly excited to the point it was a little frightening? Whatever it was, it made his heart race and he grew nervous; he thought he would start hyperventilating, but he still felt a strange sort of excitement.

He thought about questioning Ignis, asking him if he was serious about it. But Gladio had both decided and started learning to not do that; Ignis never offered something he was not comfortable with. Gladio…trusted in what he said.   
Ignis wanted to take breakfast with him, the two, together.  
 _What sort of lucky thing am I?_

Gladio tried to say yes, but all that he could manage was a nod, a bit too fast, in short movements. He was grinning widely, eyes gleaming and ears still pointing up.   
Ignis could not help but widen a smile even warmer than before, looking at Gladio with tenderness; each day, and with each little action, he reminded Ignis more and more of an innocent sweet little child. One that was making a first friend, and who got overly happy at the smallest of things, because it was new and important to him.  
 _No wonder he likes reading soft romance novels._  
 _He has such a pure, fragile heart…._

“Good” Ignis said after a while, not wanting to stay quiet for too long in case Gladio could read his thoughts. “So, tomorrow morning, breakfast together. Anything in particular you fancy?”  
“Anything you want!” Gladio said a bit too cheerfully, and then tried to contain himself, but it still came out a bit too happily. “Whatever you- you choose. Like you’d eat alone, something you particularly want. I-…you choose. I…well, thank you, I…” Gladio chuckled and stared around as if a little lost out of how excited he was. “You’re agreeing to breakfast with me, despite how…ugly it can get at times, so really the honor is mine a-and, and least I can do is have you choose one of your favorites as a thank you, if you- I mean, it’s you who cook anyway, so it’s not like I’m doing the great thing as gratitude gesture, but I promise I’ll behave” Gladio stopped in there. 

Ignis had started to chuckle, but the last words made the laugh fade and he looked at the beast with some surprise. Gladio, on his side, stayed quiet for a little, and then his ears moved down, not in sadness but in shyness. Still, he gifted Ignis a wide if timid smile, and eyes gleaming with joy.  
“I’ll behave really nicely” Gladio said quietly. “I promise.”  
Ignis still stared at him for a long while. His eyes traveled across the beast’s face, scanning him, and still trying to process what he had said. When he did, Ignis’ first instinct was to let out an ‘Aw’ and go to grab him by the face and caress his fur, but he controlled himself; not only was that inappropriate, he also feared he would make Gladio feel like a dog. But, for a second, it was almost irresistible, the wish to pet him and say ‘Aw’.

As much as he wanted, though, Ignis didn’t do it.  
“Oh, Gladio…” he still let out tenderly, eyebrows furrowing, smiling, and feeling moved. “That’s okay. You don’t need to force yourself, you…you’re doing phenomenal already, don’t pressure yourself. Little by little, okay?”  
“Still, I promise” Gladio said with a joyful smile. _So that you see I can be good enough so you stay for more breakfasts with me._

Ignis smiled at him with the same tenderness, a little touched. He tried to resist, but what Gladio had said, and his joy so pure, it made Ignis smile more widely until he grinned and chuckled, and then he got closer and put a hand to the beast’s arm, softly.   
Gladio looked down at the place where Ignis was touching him, and then up at the man, as if questioning him. Ignis, on his side, only looked at the spot where he was touching the beast, smiling, and then caressed the fur. Gladio felt his heart skip a beat again, and he looked down at the arm Ignis was caressing slowly and with care.  
Gladio wanted to put his other hand on top of Ignis’; hold it in his own, close the eyes, feel that palm against himself.

For a second, Gladio allowed to himself the pleasure of at least closing the eyes, even if just two seconds.  
 _It doesn’t burn anymore…_

He tried to resist the want to hold Ignis’ hand. He’ll think you’re creepy, he thought. It _is_ creepy, he thought. Friends don’t do that, he thought.   
“I know you will, Gladio” Ignis said after a good while only caressing the beast’s arm and looking at it as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. Without letting go, he looked up at the beast, and Gladio felt his face burn bright; they were standing so close to each other, so close. It made his heart go crazy. “So see you tomorrow. For breakfast.”  
“Y-yeah…” Gladio forced the word out.   
“So, as promised” Ignis started, let go of the beast’s arm, and took a couple steps back. Gladio felt the sudden distance, and he both wanted to break it again, and keep it as it was. He decided to be relieved about the space in between, but he could still feel Ignis’ hand on his arm. “That way we continue talking about the books tomorrow morning.”

“Yes…” Gladio agreed quietly, smiling, and could not help but move his hand up to grasp his opposite arm, where Ignis had touched him. Where Ignis hand had been; he would be holding it right now if it had still been there…  
“See, how difficult was it?” Ignis asked him, back to being playful. “You keep making fun of me for suggesting we communicate to fix things, but it worked!”  
“It’s just…’communicate’ sounds stupid” Gladio joined the fun, grinning and looking down.   
“We just had to talk things and we cleared a misunderstanding” Ignis said as if proudly and crossed the arms. “But no…” after that, he started talking in an exaggerated silly and high pitched voice, mocking. “’Communicating sounds stupid, communicating doesn’t work, communicating is for children, do you want to talk about our feelings?’”

The beast looked up at Ignis with squinted eyes and a non-amused expression. Ignis chuckled and snorted, trying to contain the laugh that tried to escape him just at the funny face Gladio was giving him; near laugh but clearly as if saying ‘I’m tired of your shit’.   
“…you really enjoy getting on my nerves, don’t you?” Gladio asked him with a subtle smile, but still the squinted, metaphorically tired eyes.   
“Communicating’” Ignis repeated in that mocking voice, and Gladio just stared at him for longer in silence with the same face. After a few seconds, he rolled the eyes and shook the head, looking somewhere else and trying not to laugh.  
“I would push you, but I’d break you, boy” the beast said with a little smile.  
“Why don’t we communicate instead? I’m sure it’ll work” Ignis mocked again, if in his normal voice this time.

Gladio turned to look at him again with the same playfully-irritated face, and Ignis could not help but laugh this time.  
“One day I’ll throw you off the ninth floor, Ignis.”  
“No, you won’t.”  
“Yes, I will.”  
“But I’m adorable.”  
 _Yes, of course._  
“Pscht” was all that Gladio replied, flicking a wrist as if dismissing him. “Go to bed, Ignis, you’re drunk.”

The unexpected comment made Ignis laugh even more, and Gladio could not contain his own for longer. It came out as a chuckle, while he shook the head again, amused.   
“I guess I’m just tired…” Ignis said as his laugh faded, toying a little with his glasses. Gladio smiled at him even when the man was looking elsewhere.  
“Yeah. Me too” Gladio said more quietly. “Let’s just go to bed, alright?”  
“Yes” Ignis agreed with a nod, still smiling. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“For breakfast” the beast said with a happy smile, as if saying ‘don’ forget’. The man smiled at him and gave half-a-nod again, slow and solemn.  
“For breakfast” Ignis confirmed, and his smile widened when he looked again at the beast. Both stood in silence at the landing of the staircase where they always had to say goodbye at the end of the day, and did nothing other than look at each other. The pause lingered until making Ignis a little nervous, and he started swinging the torso subtly side to side. Gladio seemed to grow into shyness for each second that passed as well, sometimes looking away, but his smile widened, if timidly. Finally, it was Ignis who broke the silence again. “Goodnight, Gladio.”

“Goodnight, Ignis!” the beast said cheerfully, and his instinct had been to move a hand up to pat his friend on the shoulder as a friendly gesture, but he refrained as always. “See you tomorrow!”  
“Yes” Ignis agreed with a soft and quiet laugh. “You do have to continue telling me about that beautiful allegory of the book. I’m captivated.”  
“And you have to continue telling me about your fave from The Brightest Gift!” Gladio reminded him yet again. “But enough, we’ll be triggered again if we continue like this and then we won’t go to bed.”  
“True” the man agreed with another soft chuckle. “Enough for today, then” with that, Ignis got closer again and touched the beast’s arm again, looking up at him. Gladio stayed quiet, ears attentive, and he watched the man smile gently at him. “Goodnight, Gladio. I hope you rest well.”

The beast smiled back at him and his hand had already moved up so he too could return the gesture and touch Ignis as well.  
 _Is it fine to touch him, too?_  
 _Maybe I should ask first._  
 _It’s just a friendly touch on the arm…but…my claws…_  
 _Maybe he has no troubles touching me, but he’d probably shiver at my paw._  
 _His hands are human. And particularly pretty. Soft and elegant and slender. And I am so rough and horrible…_  
 _Maybe it’s best not to._  
And he didn’t.

“Thanks, Ignis” Gladio said softly, smiling warmly down at the human that was still touching his arm and smiling up at him. “I hope you rest well, too.”  
“Thank you” Ignis whispered and took a step back again, slowly letting go of the beast’s arm. Once more, Gladio’s skin lamented the loss, but he controlled himself and only glanced casually at the spot where Ignis had touched him. “Good dreams.”  
“Sleep tight.”  
“See you tomorrow.”  
“For breakfast!”

Ignis only laughed as response and started walking backwards a couple steps. When he reached the staircase behind him, he stopped and stared at the beast a little more, smiling.  
“It was a pleasant night, Gladio” Ignis said. “I don’t remember the last time I ever enjoyed a conversation like I did tonight. Thank you for the wonderful, pleasant conversation.”  
The beast’s ears once more flapped up when Ignis bowed very slightly in front of him, the Lucian formal style of showing deep gratitude. Taken a bit off-guard, Gladio grew a little flustered and stuttered at first when Ignis stood straight back up and made eye contact with him again.   
“Ah- uhm- no- no!” Gladio hurried. “It’s me who has to thank you. It means a lot and enough only that you agreed to reading the books, so that you did and also took the time to talk about them with me…” the beast grew a little shy, and he toyed a little with the hem of his shirt, lowering the eyes and the head. “…that’s so cool. Thank you.”

Ignis smiled while watching the beast go shy. The first times he saw Gladio’s real timid being, Ignis found it cute but incongruous. Now it was only cute. Even a little dear, like one of Ignis’ favorite faces from Gladio. The man had to refrain the impulse to go touch his arm again, because it would be simply ridiculous at this point, but Gladio and his stupid puppy-like attitudes made it difficult to not want to go and do something, touch his arm, pet his head, pull from his cheeks. Hug him?  
Maybe that was…a bit too much.  
 _But maybe one day._

Ignis grinned at him and nodded again.  
“Pleasure is mine” he said softly. “Thanks for tonight, Gladio.”  
“Thanks to you” the beast insisted, and moved a hand up to wave. “Night, Ignis.”  
“Goodnight, Gladio” Ignis said for the millionth time, before this time he really did force himself for a last smile and glance before turning around, and started going upstairs. Gladio stood in the landing for a little longer, watching the man leave. He decided he didn’t want Ignis to catch him there, so the beast turned around and tried to subtly hurry a couple steps up before looking back again. 

Ignis looked back, too, once at the top of the staircase. When Gladio found him staring, both shot the other a smile and another wave of the hand, before the human once more turned around, and continued his way without looking back. The beast smiled while watching him walk away, and spent a while only staring, until Ignis rounded the corner and disappeared. Gladio smiled a little more, turned around, and left too. 

When the beast made it to his room, Iris was already snuggled in her usual cushion, if yet not asleep. She questioned what had taken him so long, at which Gladio only replied with a casual flick of a wrist and a ‘You know, just talking with Ignis’. 

Gladio tried to lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, but could not sleep. He tried to spend a while staring out the window, paced around, sat, but did not sleep. He had never been so excited for it to be morning since he was a child waiting for the gifts under the tree during Crystal celebrations of winter.

_He said yes to having breakfast with me…!_

“What’s wrong, Gladdy?” Iris asked after a while of watching her brother come and go around the room a bit eagerly, if a little anxiously. “You look nervous?”  
“I’m just excited” Gladio told her with a big and radiant smile. “Ignis said it was fine if we had breakfast together!”  
“What?” Iris asked, widening slightly the eyes. 

With that, the beast proceeded to tell her everything about it, adding his thoughts and repeating at least over fourteen times how excited he was for it, how well he would behave, and about all the things he wanted to talk with Ignis about the books he had read.   
Talking about that part, and after the millionth “I’m excited for tomorrow morning”, Gladio ran out of words (even the repeated ones), so he laid in bed again, hands behind his head, and smiling at the ceiling. 

Iris smiled at the sight.   
She had almost forgotten what a truly happy Gladio looked like…

_Whatever Ignis has done to him, the Six bless him._

Iris tried to help Gladio calm down enough to sleep, but she ended up snuggling in her cushion and falling asleep first. The beast did not mind; he _was_ spending too long awake only pacing around. 

To try to calm down and find something that could maybe help him sleep, Gladio dug through the books he kept in his room, and he found one of his favorite ones. He loved the novel so much, he kept his own copy in his room; it was the novel that he had recommended to Ignis, the first he read. It was not Gladio’s favorite book, but it was his favorite when it was about the romance genre. 

He laid facedown in bed in front of the book, only one candle lit as to not wake or disturb Iris in the other side of the room, and he started re-reading it from chapter three.

One of the protagonists was there. The character was stubborn, sarcastic, very intelligent, and sly, but also had a very soft core, made of kindness, warmth, a sweetness unique, and a very beautiful sense of selflessness that built most of their essence. They had a heart so pure and so warm, and always willing to offer it to others, it was captivating. They were so warm, like a gentle flame. So quiet. So beautiful. So ethereal. So perfect.  
Gladio had always been irremediably in love with that character.

The character also happened to remind him a little of Ignis, now that he thought about it. 

That night, Gladio fell asleep hugged to one of his favorite books, and with the promise of something that could seem trivial to anyone, but was a treasure to him.

‘Breakfast together’.


	28. A Little Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This is a Ravus-centered chapter only.**
> 
>  
> 
> If you're not interested in the Ravus arc, you can skip this.
> 
> For context: the events of this chapter happen before the events of last chapter; to be more precise, this happens the same day as Gladio and Ignis were at the orchard talking about Nox.
> 
> I'm sorry for the slight mess up in chronology; the past chapter was meant to be half Gladio-Ignis and half Ravus, but it didn't feel natural.
> 
> I'd have put Ravus' chapter up first, but you people had waited so long, I wanted to give you the Gladio-Ignis content you want and deserved after such a long wait. :)
> 
> -
> 
> -

It had been more than a week since Ravus saw mister Scientia.

After the events in the basement of the Scientia house, Ravus had not wanted to see him. He had not even told Ardyn he would stop his task as spy/caretaker; he simply stopped visiting the Scientia house and the townhall. He had not told anyone, had not asked anyone to replace him, Ravus literally merely stopped seeing Caleo.

At first, it was due to anger; how dare Caleo speak to him like that? Like he knew Ravus, like he had any single idea what Ravus’ life had been like, like he knew how it _felt._ How dare he apologize in king Regis’ place? He was a loony pathetic excuse of a human being, not a tiny bit comparable to the imposing and majestic figure that king Regis had been. He had no rights to speak in his place, even less to apologize, even less when he had no idea of how wrong Regis had done. How dare Caleo touch him, how dare Caleo look at him to the eyes, how dare he…how dare he forgive him even after Ravus had-   
Anger. That was what had fueled Ravus to break any and all contact with that old man. 

…and then it was fear. 

What face was Ravus supposed to wear when Caleo looked at him again after the events of the basement? Did he have to pretend nothing happened, was that fine? Caleo looked old, but he was _not_ old…still, he was very fragile, and his physics definitely could not compare a single bit to that of Ravus’; Scientia father was an ill and skinny mature man who had spent his life studying and making little inventions, where Ravus was still in the splendor of his youth (not too young to be a greenie, not too old to decay in strength), and had spent most of his life training to exhaustion…not only had Ravus hit him, he had also hit him despite the gigantic difference of strength and sizes. Was Caleo okay? Ravus could have even broken his jaw. Gods, why had he hit him so hard? Maybe if he had slapped him instead- he could have killed the man. How did he have to look at him now? Did he even have the _right_ to look at him again? What was he supposed to say or do? Was he supposed to act as if nothing had happened…despite the fact that what did happen was horrible, and it was _all his fault?_

Did he have any right to look at the victim when he was the bad guy?

Ravus was not very good at handling guilt. The only things he had felt guilty for were his mother’s sacrifice thanks to which he was still alive, and having abandoned Lunafreya in the Citadel, and those were relatively recent events. But he had managed to hide those under anger and hatred; above feeling guilt for his mother’s death or abandoning Lunafreya, he hated the kingdom of Lucis, king Regis, and the empire for being the ones to blame. Ravus did not choose any of those things, so he had no reasons to feel particularly guilty, and he had others to blame, so that was how he handled guilt; reminding himself he had no reasons to feel it and focus it in someone else.

But having hit Caleo…that was all Ravus. It was Ravus’ hand; his words; his actions. It was all him. There was no one else to blame, not even someone innocent to use as excuse. It was an empty basement with only two people; the victim and the bad guy. And he had been the bad guy. And it felt…incredibly disgusting.   
Sure, he had killed dozens of people to get where he was, but he never knew any of them. For all he knew, they could be buglers or assassins. And it had been necessary (in his perception of the world, of course).  
But hitting Caleo. That had not been necessary. Not helpful. Not even satisfying.

Guilt was…strange. Ravus felt he should be doing something, but he was not sure what; he felt he had to go make sure Caleo was okay, but he also felt that it was senseless to do that when he had been the attacker. He wanted to say something, but also felt he had to say nothing. Do something, but nothing at all. Be somewhere, but not really. It was similar to anxiety, which he had not felt since the attack in the Citadel, but not quite the same. This was worse, because it involved someone else, and if Ravus hated something, that was that other people caused unnecessary and stupid emotions in him, of whatever kind. 

Thank the Astrals, that he had no idea how to handle guilt made Ravus feel angry, so that was how he handled it, somehow. Only being angry and hitting the walls of his house and chopping wood like a maniac. He avoided all sorts of human contact, basically locking himself away in his house during that week and a couple days.

And he could have possibly stayed there for longer, was it not due to an unexpected visitor at his door.

 

Ravus had been doing but sit there staring at his cup of tea, frowning slightly and deep in his thoughts, when there was a knock on the door. At first, he did not reply; when they knocked again, he thought about yelling “No one’s home, go away!” just to keep it clear. But, the gods curse him, he remembered he was somehow under Ardyn’s will. If it was that daemon trashcan who was calling at his door and Ravus ignored him, he could miss some important news or indications that could endanger or create more troubles for his mission of rescuing his sister. As unimportant as a tiny detail could be, Ravus was not going to risk the only purpose and reason of his life if he could avoid it. So, feeling somewhat forced, he stood up from his place and went to the door. If it was Ardyn, he would hear whatever the asshole had to say; if it was not him, he would say he was busy and shut the door. Simple.

Except Ravus was not very prepared for the unexpected visitor, and for the even more surprising conversation they had to offer. 

Ravus crossed the hall in long strides, and soon enough was at the entrance. He turned the knob and opened the door, perhaps a bit too roughly. His eyes found nothing, and then they had to go down; after all, the blonde woman of the workshop was much shorter than him.  
When he saw her standing there, Ravus could not help but blink with surprise and slightly open the mouth, his confusion very clear across his expression.   
Among all people…she?  
What was she doing there? That blonde was in front of him, in her usual loose pants and long boots, and the dark yellowish corset on top of the short sleeved white blouse that left the shoulders uncovered. She was not in her usual working gear, but in something more casual. In casual and at his door, why? And even more puzzling was the look on her face. She seemed to be in…worry. Some sort of embarrassment, but not the shy kind; rather the uncomfortable one. 

Ravus stared at her some moments, and right as he was starting to think of something to say to make her leave, she sighed and spoke first.  
“I know, you weren’t expecting anyone, even less me, huh?” she asked and her expression that almost passed as utterly sad deepened. She sighed again and crossed the arms. “I’m sorry I appear so out of the blue, but…I have something to say.”  
“Some other day” Ravus snarled at her. “I’m busy.”  
“It’s quick!” she hurried before he could go back into his house; Ravus would have slammed the door shut, but she put a hand on it as if reading his thoughts. The white-haired could still have slammed it; he was far much stronger than her. But it was the fact that she dared to stop him what made him stop and look back at her again. “It’s just that- I’m just back from the Scientia’s.”

The mention of it made something in Ravus’ chest flip. He hated the sensation, even more that it took him off-guard, and was about to snap out at her again when she was faster.  
“And I wanted to say-” she stopped there, gave him that profoundly sad look again, and her voice lowered. “…I wanted to say thank you.”

Ravus, once more, was taken entirely off-guard. He blinked in confusion and his frown deepened. He stared at her as if the more intense he would do it, the better he would understand. He stared at her in absolute silence, frowning with confusion and looking at her from eyes to toes and back to the eyes.   
She wanted to…what?  
But…if she was just back from seeing that old man, she must have seen his face. Must have talked with him.  
She must have known…

“…what for?” Ravus asked lowly and in his always cold voice. She continued staring at him in silence, as if not sure if it was fine to go on, or as if analyzing if he was not just pretending to be paying attention only to slam the door as soon as she relaxed. However, she decided to take her hand away of the door, and sighed as if to calm herself.   
“For what you did” she stated simply. “Mister Scientia…he told me the day after that, but I…well, I guess it wasn’t easy to accept I was mistaken, huh?”  
“After _what_ happened?” Ravus asked between clenched teeth, frustrated. 

She blinked at him as if surprised that he was not understanding.   
“The fight” Cindy said. “He told me everything about it.”

Ravus let out a very subtle sound of surprise, as if he had intended to gasp but stopped himself from it midways, and he stared at the woman from the workshop with slightly widened eyes and with furrowed eyebrows. She seemed rather concerned that he was acting as strangely, but Ravus could not help it. The mention of the fight made his heart shrink inside him, and he again hated the sensation. He felt his skin become hot, but not in a blush, rather in nerves. He went tense and mute. There was a long silence with Ravus staring at her with shock, and her looking at him a bit concerned and expecting an answer.   
“…you wanted…to say what?” he murmured after forcing himself out of his head.  
“I wanted to say thanks, and that I’m sorry too” Cindy repeated, more concise this time as if tired of the man not catching it.   
“Thanks?” Ravus asked as if the word was new to him. _Thanks for hitting him? Are you seriously thanking me for hitting him?_

Cindy sighed again, dropping the arms and slightly throwing the head back as if in either exasperation or tiredness.  
“Yeah” she admitted and looked away. “It’s terrible that it happened. I knew there’s people in town that think he’s- not mentally okay, but to go all the way as to try to attack him…”   
Ravus’ breath stopped.   
…what did she…?  
“I wasn’t sure what to think when I saw his face” she continued, placing a hand softly on one of her own cheeks. “I mean, you’re supposed to always be with him, so I couldn’t find an explanation as to how he got such a horrible bruise if you were meant to…well, look after him at all moments” she crossed her ankles and rested her hands at her waist. “I thought you were skipping your job and not telling anyone. But then he told me about it all. I still can’t believe it.”

Ravus stared at her in silence and still in shock, trying to connect the pieces in his head, trying to see if anything in this made sense at all. While he waited for his brain to process the information, she continued speaking.  
“I know people were wary of him for…the events of the tavern that day…” once more, she looked away. “I understand people can ignore him or make fun of him, but to go to the limits and dare to attack him just for his mental status?” she sighed. “I’m just glad you were there with him. He told me about how, when that stranger attacked him while yelling those atrocious things, you got in the way and protected him.”

Ravus’ heart skipped a beat and he was sure it was about to stop.   
_…he didn’t. Caleo Scientia didn’t dare to-!_

“Truth be told, I was always very wary of you for always carrying with that sword” Cindy interrupted his thoughts, oblivious to the huge shock that kept the man paralyzed and his heart racing. “I thought you wanted it for aggression. But I see I was mistaken, and you carry with it only for self-defense. It’s so frustrating to know that the aggressor escaped, but I’m happy that you were there and managed to scare him away; if you hadn’t been there, I can’t imagine what he could have done to poor mister Scientia…” she lamented, shaking the head slightly and looking away. After a pause, she sighed yet again and stood straight back on her soles, moving the hands to her front. “I- the workshop is in the way between your house and mister Scientia’s, and I haven’t seen you when you go to visit, so that’s why I came here instead. I’m sorry for the interruption, but I really wanted to say thanks…”

After that, she bowed to him, deep enough to demonstrate gratitude, but not enough as if begging. Ravus flinched slightly in surprise and, almost by reflex, stared around to make sure no one was watching. He was not sure why he panicked, it was not rare to see neighbors thanking each other. He guessed it was just that the Lucian code of bowing by bending the torso felt way more intimate than the Tenebraean code of bowing by only, in the case of women, flexing slightly the knees and nodding once.   
“And I also owe you an apology. A huge one” Cindy said seriously but softly, while still in the bow. She returned up, and stared at him with sadness and slight guilt. “To be honest, I…never trusted in you.”

Ravus’ heart calmed down a bit, but it still beat heavily in his chest. He tried to hide his shaky breath, succeeding, but hiding his nerves was nowhere close to actually calming down himself. The way she had been so directly sincere…it was a bit intimate, and Ravus was not sure if he was thankful for the sincerity or not.  
“You look so rude and so…cruel sometimes” she said. “I thought you treated mister Scientia badly and roughly. I thought you could be abusive with him…but I see I was mistaken.”  
Ravus felt a pinch in the heart, and his nerves calmed only because they were shadowed by a sudden guilt that almost made him want to throw up.   
“You defended and protected him to the point of ending up harmed yourself…” Cindy continued, and lowered the head. “I don’t know if you personally care about him, but you did a sacrifice for him, and that’s enough. I’m sorry I thought so wrongly and badly of you, mister Ravus. I was mistaken. And thank you once more for protecting mister Scientia…you have my gratitude, as sincere as I think his own son would have felt. Mister Scientia is a fatherly figure to me, too, so it really is personal when I say I mean it…”

Once more, Cindy presented a small bow to him, this one lasting less than the previous one. When she stood back straight, she gave him a smile of sorts, the kind of pressing the lips into a thin line, clearly grateful but not very comfortable in his presence, even less after thinking herself the bad one of the story.   
“That was all” Cindy said, sighed, and turned around. “And if your sword ever needs any maintenance, Paw Paw-…my grandpa has the skills for it” she stopped at the last of the steps of the porch and looked over her shoulder to give him another apologetic smile. “And…first one goes on the house. As thanks. For all this.”  
“…I’ll consider it” Ravus said so lowly it was almost a murmur. He gave no thanks, and Cindy expected none, so she only stood there a few moments, nodded once, and left for real this time. 

Ravus stood at his door, not going back inside and not closing it. He stared at the ground and did nothing else but that. He had already processed the information. He was not in shock. But he did have to deal with some found feelings.

He thought he would feel angry…but all that he felt was some sort of sadness. 

Caleo Scientia…he had lied? For him?

Caleo had always been a strange and weird creature. But this was by far the strangest thing he had done, and Ravus could not see the purpose of it, no matter how much he looked at the situation. That naïve, child-like man…lying. That was surprising enough. That he did it to…protect the person who really attacked him? That he did it for _Ravus…_

Ravus tried to be angered, he really tried.

But all that he felt was sadness, and that terrible pinch behind the lungs that kept making him feel observed, like the Six, or even worse…like Lunafreya was watching, and terribly judging him. For bad.

\--

Ravus had cried a couple tears in the basement, when Caleo apologized to him.   
And after that, Ravus had not stopped.

As he made his way out of the house, through the town, into his own house, he could not stop crying. He hated himself for how weak he felt, for how childishly he was acting, for how pathetic it was, but no matter how angry he tried to be, how many walls he hit, how much he thrashed his own room, it worked for nothing; he only cried more and more. The anger made him cry; the humiliation made him cry; being on his feet, sitting, lying, no matter what he did, he could not stop crying ever since Caleo had broken the dam.

He hated Caleo profoundly, with all his guts. While crying uncontrollably and feeling as if there was nothing he could hold to and he was falling to his doom, Ravus swore to one day kill the man for what he did to him. No one through a decade or more had gotten what Scientia did; Ravus had thought for sure, he was so sure that there was no one and nothing in the universe that could do it, that not only was it unexpected when it happened, it also brought him down entirely.

Caleo broke him.

He broke something inside of him. Saying sorry, apologizing in the name of king Regis, even after Ravus had hit him and shoved him around…it made something inside Ravus crack. He was sure that it was literal, that he had heard it; he was sure something had literally broken inside him because he could _feel_ it. It burnt; it hurt; something inside his chest, it was shattering, and he could do nothing about it, other than grip his own coat and shirt tightly in a fist, stay down on his knees, and continue sobbing loudly and with no control over himself.

Ravus cried for so long, he lost notion of time. He was not even sure he could remember the last bits of his sobbing. All that he knew was that he arrived home in panic and made a disaster of tears, and he spent the rest of the night like that; he wanted to hold to something, but nothing made him feel comfort; he tried to calm down, but he only screamed and cried until almost ripping his throat. He cried, and his heart got overwhelmed of emotions, and everything of the past five years, of the past decade, everything went through him that night. 

He ended up knocked out on his bedroom’s floor, and slept for more than ten hours afterwards. 

When he woke up, Ravus felt…horribly vulnerable. Like he was suddenly half his size with half the strength, and entirely exposed for anyone to destroy with just one hit. He blamed it on whatever Caleo had broken inside of him. 

But then Ravus felt incoherently…free.

Two days after the events of the basement, Ravus felt…so light. Like whatever Caleo had broken had taken with itself three quarters of the weight off of him. Like he had been wearing metal clothes the entire time, and for once he was wearing cotton.   
It felt like something was missing, and while it made him feel light and free, it also made him feel that horrible, immense vulnerability. 

He tried to put his finger onto what was happening to him, or why he suddenly felt so…light and so vulnerable, like he had been taken off both chains and armor, both weight but also protection.

The only thing he realized that was new was that he had cried. Something that he had not done in five years.  
Ravus could not explain why and he could not and would not believe that it had any sort of power or effect on him, and that it was mere coincidence, but he noticed that, for the first time in five years, he let himself cry; for his father, for his mother, for his lands, for his life, for Lunafreya. For all and every single tragedy that had harassed him throughout the years, he cried for everything, for a first time in the Six know how long.

For king Regis. For that second father he once had; his once role model, his hero. For king Regis, who he thought had betrayed him. He cried a lot for king Regis, for a first time in gods know how long.

Ravus had focused so much in only making his way through Eos, killing anyone that got in his way, focused so intensely in the only task of recovering his sister, that he had not only forgotten, but not ever once given himself the chance to properly mourn his family and his tragedies.

Caleo Scientia, by letting Ravus hit him, and by apologizing, triggered five years and more than a decade of tears.   
That was part of the reason Ravus felt so afraid of visiting him; the man held a power that was beyond Ravus’ control. Ravus had focused so much in improving the physical strength to fight off any foe that dared attack his body, that it never crossed his head someone could attack his soul. Caleo was a weakling, but he held something more dangerous than a weapon or strength; he had mercy, and empathy, and an endless patience that Ravus could not break even with a hit on the face. 

Ravus had not wanted to visit at first out of anger, then out of fear, and then the fear was joined by guilt, as if crying had cleaned his eyes and he was finally seeing the whole situation clearly, and had noticed the crime that he had done; like crying had, for once, made him see that he was so focused in tagging himself as the victim, he had not seen he was the bad guy instead.  
He was terrified of the change something so trivial and vulgar like sobbing like an infant was causing in him, and he was trying to deny it and go back to being his usual self.

 

But with this new knowledge, knowing what the woman of the workshop told him, Ravus could not _not_ do something.

 

 

Needless to say, Ravus did go to visit Caleo that night, the first time he did after the events of the basement. At first he had not felt…adequate to see him to the face after that. He didn’t like the sound of “didn’t feel strong enough”, because it meant he had let this man be stronger than him, and that could never be true. Ravus merely…had no idea how he would handle the situation of seeing him again after what happened.   
But now, after having heard what Cindy told him…Ravus _needed_ to see him. Not that he didn’t believe what she said, but he wanted- no, he _demanded_ an explanation. And this time he would not allow any of that ‘you’re really a good person on the inside’ bullshit. 

It was about the time most the town had dinner when Ravus arrived to the Scientia house. His foot hesitated when he tried to take the first step into the porch, and he grew angry to have hesitated. What he knew of the situation plus the chaos of emotions within him allowed Ravus to feel what he was better acquainted with, and hence, what he knew the best how to handle; anger. In that state of mind, Ravus went up the couple of wooden stairs that creaked underneath his soles, and soon stood at the door. He decided to not knock or wait a single second because he feared he would again hesitate, so he immediately turned the knob, only to find the door unlocked and opening obediently, a bit too roughly as Ravus was handling it. 

A bit startled that the door opened so easily and so roughly out of how hard he had pushed it, as if he had expected and almost wanted resistance, Ravus stopped in his place, a bit frozen, and stared around in slight sudden panic. Everything looked in its right place, in order, maybe a bit messy but nothing out of ordinary.   
After a few seconds, a figure appeared in the hallway that connected the dining room with the entrance.

Caleo Scientia said nothing.  
He stood there in silence. He did react when he saw who was standing at the door, with a very subtle gasp, and by freezing in his spot. Ravus, too, was paralyzed as well standing at the door, doing but glance back with wide eyes, a frown, and no breath. However, there where the Tenebraean gave him slightly panicked eyes, as if unsure of what to do now or how the man would react, Caleo gave him more calm and focused eyes. There was surprise in them, sure, but, despite it all, there was not a single trace of fear or panic. 

Both continued staring at each other for longer, in silence. Ravus would not say that they were sharing a silent conversation, because that was not it. But he could not deny that, by standing there doing nothing but stare, there was… _something_ happening. It felt a little intimidating. Like he had just walked into the afterlife, and the Six were standing there, judging him. Or like he was being given forgiveness, which was not bad, but…it felt a bit wrong. Like he did not deserve it. 

It felt like…standing there just sharing a glance, it was the moment he realized that the one who had done wrong, all this time, _all this time_ , it had always been him, and not king Regis… 

Ravus blinked and his expression softened at the sudden thought. No; this was not king Regis. He could not let his mind mix them up and make him think it was Regis who was innocent. He was not; Caleo was, he admitted that, but Regis was not. He could not let his brain mix things up, he had to remember this was not king Regis-  
…but he knew that. He knew that already. He was not confusing Caleo with Regis anymore…what he had thought, it was not out of confusion. He only connected one thing with the other, he made the comparison, but he did not mix anything up.  
…so perhaps, that previous thought, maybe he really meant it...?

“Ravus” mister Scientia said lowly from the inside. He awkwardly looked away a few times, as if unsure of what to do, and laid eyes on the younger man again. He nodded once. “…come inside. It’s fine.”  
Usually, the Tenebraean would snarl at him, maybe even, if he was in a particularly bad mood, bark at him that he could not tell him what to do, but he did not. Part of him even felt…relieved to hear explicit permission to come in. He hated it; hated how good it was to hear he was welcomed. 

Ravus took a step in, closed the door, and made his way into the house. He realized mid hallway that he was stepping quietly, as if feeling himself insecure in this place, and he hated that too. He corrected it and took his usual firm and slightly aggressive steps, like the place belonged to him and this was his territory, and he went into the kitchen-dining room section. He stopped at the doorframe when he caught sight of the older man again.  
Caleo was cooking. Apparently, he was in the last steps of it, too. 

The former prince stayed quiet as if it had been him who had always been there and hence it was Caleo who had to speak first. He really was not thinking anything on how to start conversation; he only stood there, quiet. A bit unsure if it was fine to speak or not. Caleo did not pressure him; he continued working as if he was alone. Ravus frowned and tried to snap out at him, but nothing came out of his mouth. He breathed in, tried again, and once more failed to make a sound. He closed the eyes and his upper lip twitched in contained anger, as if prepared to bite anyone that came close.  
 _It doesn’t have to be this hard. It doesn’t have to be this hard, just say it! He owes you an explanation, just say it!_

Finally, after a long wait, Ravus opened the mouth to take a slight breath in, and dared speak before he would hesitate too much.  
“Why did you tell her that?” Ravus asked in his usual way; direct, straight the point, and dry. Caleo looked over his shoulder and gave him an innocent look, letting a silence linger, then stared away and occupied himself with his cooking again.  
“Why would I not?”  
“Do not toy with me” Ravus snarled, frowning. “The woman of the workshop. Ao…Auh…Aurum” he clarified. “She came here to visit the day after…” 

Pause. The silence that followed was too abysmal. Ravus tried to force himself to say it. He tried to push the words out of his mouth, tried to shake them off his tongue and spit them out at once, he tried and tried, but with no results. What the hell was wrong with him? He had done worse things than hit an older man in the face, he had done horrible, atrocious things, and he had not batted an eyelash at them. Why was only _mentioning_ this one so…difficult!?  
“…she visited last week” Ravus muttered instead, staring away and still frowning. “Saw your bruised face. And you made up some story about how some stranger in the street attacked you because he thought you a lunatic, and that I intervened, scared him away, even that I ended up harmed myself” as he talked about it, his voice raised as if in anger, but all that he felt was his mood dropping into something more similar to sadness, which he concealed. “Why did you tell her all that nonsense!? Why didn’t you tell her it was me who…!?”

Again, he paused in that part of his sentence, and for harder he tried, he could not complete it. He only gave a frustrated sigh as his ending period. There was yet another lingering silence which Ravus spent trying to figure out his own emotions and how to deal with the ones he had never had to deal with before. He tried to understand the reason of why the back of his eyes itched, and tried to understand why he did not feel unmovable anymore. It was like something, somehow, had brought down all his defenses, every single one of the walls inside him, without him even knowing. It was like something inside was missing.

It was whatever Caleo had broken; it was that what gave him all these troubles.

 

Sometimes, Caleo wrote letters for Ignis; letters that, despite them never arriving to his son’s hands, they helped to comfort Caleo in some way, even when he kept them all.  
 _I think…_ read one of those letters, _that there’s a layer of solid rock covering his heart. So no feelings make it in, and no feelings make it out._

 

Ravus trembled very subtly in absolute frustration of not understanding why he was feeling suddenly _so much._ He was not sure he could even name most of the things he was feeling, or tell if they were many in quantity, the only way he found to describe it was…too much. His feelings were pouring out of his entrails and his heart with no control, flooding him, overwhelming him.

The quiet gurgling of whatever soup was at the stove was everything for a moment, joined later by the sound of a spoon put down.  
“Well” Caleo said after a small pause, turning slightly to be able to look at the younger man. “I said that so that she wouldn’t know that it was you” Ravus had time enough to look up at him, frowning deeply, but not enough to request the next obvious question when Caleo was already giving the answer. “And that, so that she wouldn’t sue you.”

The Tenebraean stood quiet in his place, scanning the older man’s face. Now that there was proper eye contact, Ravus could notice the bruise of his face. Despite the thick beard, he could still see part of the big shapeless purple figure. It looked bad. Too bad for a week since he punched him. Ravus wondered, if it looked so bad so much time later, how it must have looked the first days. How swollen and horrible. How much it must have hurt. It only did but cool his anger again, but not in tranquility, rather in sadness.   
“…you had all the rights to sue me” Ravus said lowly. “Why didn’t you? Or why not let her do it?”  
“Boy” Caleo said with a joyful little laugh. The unexpected happiness took Ravus off-guard, though, for once, it did not upset him. All that it did was surprise and startle him, and made him look up at the older man, frown entirely gone, and eyes…soft. Even a bit vulnerable. 

What Caleo did was to turn to face him better, instead of giving him his back. He gave him a soft gaze. Then, he gifted him a tender but wide smile.   
“You have enough dealing with the loss of your special person and all the bad in your life so that I also send you to jail.”

Ravus blinked once and his expression changed again, into surprise. Mouth slightly parted and eyes scanning the older man like he had spoken in an unknown language, or, maybe more accurately, like he was the first creature on the planet to show mercy, and Ravus was not sure if it could be possible or if he was only misreading everything. 

While staying quiet and letting the silence linger again, Ravus felt a pinch in the heart. He stared down and he tried to remember when had been the last time that he had felt that specific organ react to something, anything, good or bad. He had almost forgotten it could feel, too. All that he had felt in years had been the entrails when he got angry. That the heart was pinching him, it was both upsetting and new. A rediscovery that he had not known he had to make. 

_The thing is breaking that layer of rock to unveil that heart, to let it breathe and beat and feel again. Which is good! It’s good to recover a good heart. But the process still implies **breaking.**_

“…after all I’ve done to you” Ravus murmured, not glancing his way. “After how abusive I’ve been, why do you care about whatever I carry with me?” he did look up this time, but even though he kept the head normally up, his eyes immediately went back down again. “You know nothing of me. You have no reason to feel pity for me.”  
“It’s not pity” Caleo said and returned his attention to the stove. “It’s _empathy”_ at the word, as if it was new and unknown, Ravus looked up at him again, but stayed quiet. “You don’t need to know the source of someone’s pain; you just need to know they’re in pain. That’s enough for me.”  
“…I still don’t understand why you’re behaving like this towards me” Ravus said, but, for once, he did not snap that out or yelled. “What I did was wrong, and it maybe even put your life itself in risk. I understand you wouldn’t be mean to me, but don’t you think I crossed the limits?”

“Hm…” Caleo looked over his shoulder at him again, eyes moving up and to a side, as if considering the question and his answer. “Well. If you ask that it’s because _you_ think so. Right?” 

Ravus flinched at the question. Suddenly feeling flustered, as if someone had caught him stealing or murdering and he had no way to say that’s not what it looked like, Ravus panicked for a moment and tried to think of a comeback, but his mouth only gaped and hesitated, heart racing again and skin tickling. Caleo, on his side, smiled a little.  
“See, that means you have morality and ethics” Caleo said happily but tenderly, and once more returned eyes and hands to his work on the stove. “Which means you’re a good person, at least deep inside. Right?” the older man served something from a pot onto a dish as he spoke. “You just needed to reach your limits of Wrong to go back to Right. By hitting a poor old, ill, vulnerable man. Chst.”

Ravus’ nose shrugged up when he frowned, but the edge of one of his eyebrows trembled slightly in hesitation; Astrals above, had that just been…a joke? Was Caleo making fun of the situation even when he was punched with the strength of a damn beast? Or was he serious, and being cold for once? He could not be rude and cold, it was not his style, but Ravus could not believe either that the man would take this so lightly as to even joke about it. While he tried to understand whether Caleo had been sarcastic to joke or to be rude, the man continued serving the food, not minding him. 

_Why are you taking this so lightly?_ Ravus meant to ask, but he could not push the question out. He had already been given the answer. All the questions he had about all the things he wanted to question in Caleo’s actions and speech, they all would end up in the same answer, one that mister Scientia had already given him. It was useless to ask anything Ravus wanted to ask, because they all led to the same. It was similar to asking Ravus himself anything; no matter how unrelated, if one kept asking and digging, each and every single question one could make to him during this stage of his life, they all would end up in the same answer, the same purpose and core; ‘for Lunafreya’. It was the same in this situation, except less and at the same time more complex; less profound and less tangled, but still holding a huge impact. 

‘You already have too much on yourself so that I also send you to jail.’

_Right, but what about yourself? Don’t you have enough too so that I also abuse of you as I please?_  
It had sounded smart at first, assertive, a final comeback to bring down all of Caleo’s arguments. A way of using his own words against him, the way to finally make the man see that what he spoke was nonsense. It felt like Ravus would turn it around and would make him see that his argument was senseless.   
But it turned out the other way around.

Because it was Ravus who understood.

_Yes. He has enough already._

Ravus’ eyes lowered, along his head. His shoulders relaxed and his body went mostly loose. He had maintained many arguments against this man, and all had made Ravus tense and be angered, and he always won. But this time, out of nowhere, unexpectedly, everything was the other way around. Not only was Ravus losing, he was also suddenly unable to stay angered, unable to stay tense in any way. And, for once, he was thinking of the opponent and not only himself.

This man that was serving himself dinner, he _had_ had enough. He lost all his family, the love of his life died, his only and beloved son was kidnapped and possibly dead too, the one relative he had left ignored and maybe even mistreated him, he fell ill who knows how long ago and his entire lifestyle had to change according to it, he lost the only one person he had left that loved him and that he loved, the people of literally all town gave him bad looks and ignored him at best, became aggressive towards him at worst, hell, this man was not even allowed to _work_ out of the entire town’s bullying on him. Ill, alone, brokenhearted, probably even depressed, harassed and bullied…he really had had enough.  
Enough…so that Ravus also abused of him… 

Ravus looked up when the noise of dishes took him out of his thoughts. He saw Scientia father after having placed a dish at the table, which Ravus could not see as the figure of the older man was in the way. Slowly, as if a bit fearful not of being hit but of being rejected, Caleo turned a bit to look better at him. They made eye contact once again, in silence, not even thinking much about things.  
After what felt like a long while, mister Scientia sat at the table but facing the outside, smiled at the young man, and patted the seat next to him, as an invitation.

The Scientia had a few chairs, but on one side of the table they had a bench. There was where the older man sat, and where he was inviting the Tenebraean. Ravus’ eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his eyes moved from the spot where Caleo had patted to look at him again, scanning him, as if silently asking him if he was serious. Scientia father only sat there in silence, looking up at him with bright, child-like eyes, lacking any malice or grudge. Waiting. Not judging him, despite having all the rights and reasons to do it.

After what felt like an eternal wait, after too much hesitation, and after holding a long internal discussion with himself measuring the options at hand, Ravus gave a quiet, hesitant step ahead. Then another one, and a few couple more until he was standing close. Even though it was slow and passive, in one movement he turned around and sat down on the wooden bench, his hands adjusting a few of the folds of his long white coat, and then resting them on his thighs. He did nothing for a good while afterwards, not even sigh. Despite the few months he had spent daily visiting this house, it was the first time he sat at the table, even if he was facing the outside.   
It was strange. Resting. Even if just by sitting, it felt like resting at what he had thought was enemy territory. 

Caleo did nothing either. Both sat next to each other in complete silence, one staring at the wall opposite to them, and the other staring at nowhere at all. Even though Ravus was busy in his thoughts, he was still aware of his present, and for a moment he felt too big; in comparison to him, Caleo was small, both in height and in mass. Ravus used to see it as him being normal and Caleo being pathetically small, but now, even though he was aware he _was_ big, it felt a bit embarrassing. Like he was in presence of a puppy that he did not mean to scare away, but he had no way to not be so imposing. 

Scientia father…  
A family taken from him, alone in the world, with no purpose or direction in life, a lifestyle he never asked for, and away of the only person that he loved…

_…we’re not so different. Are we?_

Ravus took in a deep breath and let it out as heavy as it was.  
“…I despise people like you” Ravus said incongruently soft. The older man did not offer any reaction, as if he was used to those words by this point. “People that let others abuse of them. Who don’t look for justice just because they’re scared or weak. People that only cry and don’t try to defend themselves” Ravus turned to look at him. Mister Scientia looked at him as well, unfazed. “I despise people that let others step on them. Like you.”  
“I know” Caleo said with a nod, looking away once more. “And I despise people that step on others. Like you.”

The Tenebraean was taken a bit off-guard; it was not usual that Caleo argued back. Still, it did not surprise Ravus or caused great impact in him. It only caught his curiosity, so he kept the eyes glued on the older man.  
“So what about we make a deal?” Caleo said firmly and even a bit joyfully. The image of the man’s face bruised but still radiant of innocence was a puzzle to Ravus, who continued staring. “Seen as we’re stuck having to deal with each other frequently and I’m the sort of people you despise, and you’re the sort of people I despise, what about we stop being that kind of person?”

The former prince lifted slightly the eyebrows, surprised and still curious. He thought that Caleo’s joy and stupid innocence would anger him, but all he felt was curiosity.   
The older man looked at the wall in front of them with a smile. He let a pause linger before he spoke again.  
“I stop letting you step on me, and you stop stepping on me” Caleo turned to look at him again with a wider smile. “You won’t see me being stepped on if you don’t step on me. That way we don’t have to deal with someone we can’t stand. Deal?”

Ravus continued staring. His uneven eyes stared at the man sat next to him, understanding, but not sure of how it was possible. The man that he had mistreated so much and who he had literally dragged around and punched in the face, smiling joyfully at him and trying to come to terms with him. Acting as if it had to be him who had to do it, when it had all been on Ravus, always. How could a person like this exist? Someone that did not hold any grudge against anyone, not even against someone that really deserved it…someone that only wanted peace, even among enemies…Someone that had had too bad much in life, but did not let any of that fill him with hatred; someone that, despite all the darkness in his life, remained gentle, happy, selfless…someone so full of…care. Affection. Tenderness. Someone so full…of light. 

_…like Lunafreya…_

 

Ravus still looked at him some moment and then looked away, shaking the head, lips thin and straight in an expressionless face.  
“You’re a weird man, Scientia” Ravus said, and though his comment was not friendly, it did not feel like an insult, or negative at all. By any response, all that Caleo did was nod, not looking his way, lips pressed thin, as if amused.

After that, Ravus stood up and took some steps away as if about to leave. However, when he was by the entrance of the room, he calmly stopped and waited only one second before sighing. He looked slightly over his shoulder, but then looked away and took another step, but he forced himself to stop. The hesitation of staying or leaving was more than obvious; Ravus was not confident on staying, but it was the fact that it had become too obvious that he was debating whether to leave or not what forced him to think that Caleo had already realized he wanted to say something, so there was no way back. He stayed still a few moments, trying to figure out what he would say, or _how._

After the silence lingered a few moments, Ravus turned to offer a side view to the older man.  
“…I owe you an apology, mister Scientia.”

There was a silence after that but, surprisingly, not as long or heavy as one would expect, at least in appearance; as relatively short as the silence was, it did weigh on Ravus.

To Ravus, it had meant a universe. What he said was a very heavy weight that he carried, and pushing the words out of himself took more courage and effort than he had expected, and it also costed him unexpected pain. He made sure to be hyper aware that he was not apologizing to the Regis figure that he saw in Scientia father; he made sure to apologize only for the punch to the face to the man that received it, made sure to not imply anything else in the apology. But it still had taken more effort than he thought, just saying it. He literally could not remember the last time he apologized to someone for something he did; he had apologized to Lunafreya for abandoning her, to his mother for being somehow responsible of her death, to his father for not being able to protect him, but those were things that were beyond his control. It was not something that he did on purpose or not.

But hitting Caleo, that was entirely on him. Ravus could be selfish and aggressive, he could have lost the human he once was to become a weapon…but the kid within had been raised as a prince. And even beyond that, more than that, he had been raised as a good person. Of course he knew when he had done wrong and he had to apologize. Sometimes. At least, he knew when he had done wrong when he rediscovered that inner child, which could only happen when his heart was open, even if just for a bit, even if just a glimpse.   
Which was, despite him being unaware of it, what was happening in that house, in front of the man he hated, or that he _thought_ he hated.

Something inside him had been cracking along the days since Caleo apologized to him, and it finally broke. 

So, the apology was not only his first time doing it after he could not remember when, it was also Ravus rediscovering the beat of the organ in his chest, rediscovering a glimpse of it from under the rock armor he had hidden it in. He was dealing with guilt, realizations, comparisons, his sister, king Regis, himself, and mister Scientia all at once. Saying it had not been easy at all. It had weighed and even though he felt some sort of relief, he also felt as if his heart was being wrenched. He hated it, not with anger, but with sadness. With guilt; with remorse; with hesitation of what he was doing, of what he had been doing all this time. 

Ravus was basically seeing the past five years flash in front of his eyes all at the same time, but with his human eyes, not the weaponized ones that had driven him to do all those atrocious things. And while his whole world collapsed and was rebuilt and he found the sense of life and the universe all over again, the response he got was,

“Is that how you’re planning to fix it all?”  
“What?” Ravus looked up at the older man with wide, surprised and angered eyes, taken entirely off-guard. “How can you say- of course not!” Ravus snapped at him, frowning.  
“Why say sorry, then?” Caleo asked him distractedly, with an uninterested look on his face, shrugging. Ravus’ mouth opened slightly and he lifted the eyebrows a bit, not expecting and not believing this man could suddenly behave like such a jerk. Even more when Ravus was going through such a heavy, one of the roughest emotional things he had gone through in so many years. “What’s the point if it fixes nothing?”

“You sack of- what is _wrong_ with you!?” Ravus snapped at him again, but stayed in his spot at the doorframe. He only turned to fully face the older man. “I didn’t ask- I didn’t _offer_ my apologies to fix anything, because I _can’t!”_ Ravus looked away for a moment, shaking the head in entire disbelief, and voice raising when he looked again at the older man. “I’m saying sorry because it’s…it’s the only thing I can do about it! I can’t…undo the hit, or magically heal you; I already did it, and there’s literally nothing I can do about it!” Ravus snorted silently and tried to stay calm; for a moment, it had felt like panic instead of anger, so he made sure to switch back to the latter. “But I can’t act like nothing happened either, so it’s only- it’s only-…” Ravus looked slightly down for a moment before making eye contact again. “…it’s only the correct and polite thing to do when you can’t do anything else!”

Ravus continued frowning at the older man, teeth clenching, and fists done. There was a long silence afterwards.  
Caleo, then, crossed the legs to rest an ankle on the opposite knee, calmly leaned back to rest his back on the edge of the table behind him, elegantly rested the hands on his lap, and then, slowly, he gave Ravus a profound and solemn nod, and a wide, warm smile. 

The gesture was clear.

It made Ravus’ heart skip a beat, and all the anger that he had felt previously turned again into some form of panic and nerves.  
Oh gods. How did- how did this old, naïve man… _outsmart_ Ravus and took him off-guard in such an obvious way? How did Ravus not see it? It was crystal clear.

Caleo was using his own words against him.  
 _Sorry? Is that how you’re planning to fix it?_

Ravus stared with that slight panic at the older man, surprised to the point his expression could easily be confused with some mild fear. And in some way, that was not at all a lie; his defenses had not been broken, it had been worse; Caleo sneaked around them with as much ease as if it was a kids’ game and hit right in the spot that made the older man win the entire battle. He did not need an army, he only needed a little needle, and it hit in the right spot that earned him victory.  
The bastard. The smart, wise bastard.  
Ignis’ own intelligence could not just be a random gift after all, huh.

For a moment, Ravus felt angered because he suddenly felt like a child. One that had been stupid and silly, and who had gotten a humiliating lesson from an adult, by far the most infuriating thing that can happen to a stubborn child. This was worse than losing at chess with an infant, it was humiliating, even more because it was not about who was the strongest or the best, it was about who was _right._

He snapped the head to a side, frowning, but for once he did not feel like hitting the wall or being rude. He usually behaved so aggressive because he always felt he was right and everyone else was merely too stupid to understand and think and be like him.  
Being wrong made the anger different. A little less heated. More bitter, but more controlled too. 

He did not dare say anything. It almost felt like he had no right to do it, and he feared that his face would burn red in embarrassment of the humiliating defeat if he tried to say something. Thankfully, it was Scientia father who broke the silence by sighing as he brought his legs up and took them past the bench, so he could sit facing the table.  
“Well” he said and looked over his shoulder at the younger man. “Good to know you understood now. Certainly it would have been sad if you had hit me for nothing!”

Ravus took a few moments processing his defeat. No one had won against him in so long, neither physically or verbally. Ardyn did not count; he was blackmailing him rather than making him see he was wrong. Even longer he took processing that he had not only been defeated, but it was also by this wrongly-tagged lunatic, naïve fragile man he had always considered pathetic. How did any of this happen? That stupid, barbarian of a nut-brained man, where had he gone and when was he placed by this…wise creature? 

While he was thinking about it, he glanced up at the table when he heard the noise of a dish.   
It had been previously blocked from Ravus’ sight by Caleo who stood in between, and then merely ignored when Ravus sat facing the outside. But now, Scientia father was putting the extra dish of food to sight by pushing it from its hideout behind his frame to a side, placing it on the spot at the table where Ravus had been sat at previously.  
Ravus looked at it with curious and slightly surprised eyes, and then glanced at the older man. All that Caleo did was pat the spot of the bench next to him again, and gestured towards the dish. ‘Come eat’, the gesture and invitation were more than clear.

Ravus felt his stomach wrenching inside of him. It was not hunger; it was a sudden…emotion that he could not put a tag on. It was…sort of moving. The older man had been asking him to have dinner with him all nights those few couple months they had spent together, and Ravus always said no, sometimes rudely, sometimes not even answering, sometimes even insulting him. Still, Caleo invited him every night.

To see the gesture again, after a week of not seeing him, and after the events of the basement…

Ravus did not quite understand why it did not anger him. It angered him every time. This time, on the opposite, it felt…touching. In a way he could not quite explain. And he also felt…a little unworthy.  
But welcomed.   
Like a gesture that said “Welcome back home. We missed you.”  
And he even felt a little loved.

_I always thought that breaking a heart was always bad, but then I met him and his heart hidden under rock. And I learned that breaking a heart is not always bad; sometimes it’s only a consequence of breaking an exterior layer of rock, but the heartbreak is only momentary. It’s best to ache once and heal quick than live eternally without feeling your heart, isn’t it? At least that’s what I think. I wish you were here to advise me. But sometimes I also think you wouldn’t have been able to tell me all this. Because, in some way, you too have your own layer of rock on your own heart, son._

The former prince stared at the dish. Many times, mister Scientia had tried making Tenebraean dishes to convince Ravus to eat, but not even that had worked. It was clear mister Scientia was not expecting him that night, because dinner was absurdly simple. Still, the spare dish sat there, waiting for Ravus.   
The younger man did stare at it for some moments, but then stared up at Caleo and, after a little pause, he shook the head.   
“If you think this has somehow made us friends, you’re stupidly mistaken, mister Scientia” Ravus said and crossed the arms. “I only apologized. Nothing personal.”

_But if someone could manage to break Ravus’ heart, I’m sure there’s someone that can break yours too, only enough so you can let it feel freely as it should. The best part is that they don’t even need to be rude with you; all you need is, like this young man, a little push, and you go and break your own heart. I think that’s what Ravus did; I didn’t do anything. He alone vented his pain and opened up. I was only as I thought I should be; patient, kind, and loving in my own fatherly way. I think that that’s all that you need, son; for someone to demonstrate you such a pure, kind, and timid love, that they get to make you break your own heart by realizing that you can’t hide your heart to a love so sincere. That it’s not okay to keep refusing and rejecting love; that it’s impossible, indeed._  
 _It would be beautiful, that you let yourself feel as you did when you were a child; that someone is so dear with you that your heart can’t take so much love, and it needs to break itself open to be able to take it all in. It may hurt a little, or a lot, it depends on how hard you’ve made that layer of rock that covers your heart…but as much as it aches, it’s only to let your heart beat again. And the love that broke it, the love you receive, it will be that same love that heals you afterwards. And it will be the most beautiful feeling you have ever experienced, even beyond the love this old man has tried to give you all these years._

Caleo tried to hide and contain the smile that was slowly escaping him, and he did so by taking a bite of his own food. ‘Well, nothing personal and we’re not friends, but it sure is the first night you’ve been calling me _‘mister_ Scientia’, are you aware?’ he thought to point out. But he reflexed and decided that Ravus had had enough for one day, for one week. So he kept the comment to himself.

Ravus was still watching him from the door of the dining room, apparently angry, arms crossed and looking at him like he was somewhere between disgusting and infuriating.  
“Don’t gag on your food or die while you sleep, mister Scientia” Ravus said a bit rudely, but Caleo did not feel insulted in any way. “I’m surprised you survived so many days without me. So don’t you die now that I’m back or they’ll blame me, and I’ll be in troubles. Understood?”  
No insult at the end, and he was basically saying he was back to stay, Caleo noted, but that was another comment he again kept to himself. He looked above his shoulder once more and let a pause linger.

_It’s like…light and darkness. You don’t fight someone’s darkness with more darkness, you’ll only create a void. You fight the dark with light. And even though the darkness is stronger, or vaster, or tougher, or thicker, you keep your light against it. And even when the darkness tries to consume it, you still let it burn. Because no matter how much someone else’s darkness tries fighting the light, the light will still be there. The darkness can eat a star, it can eat a sun, it can eat a torch, but you don’t need to fight the darkness with a start, a sun, a torch, or an entire galaxy. The darkness may be aggressive, but the light is stubborn; it won’t leave no matter how much darkness you throw at it. All that you need to win against the dark, no matter how thick it is…_

“You sure you don’t want it?” Caleo asked him by any response, nodding towards the spare dish. “It’s going to cool if you don’t hurry.”  
The only response he got was an unamused and uninterested expression from the Tenebraean, who still stood there with arms crossed and a bit of that jerky attitude of usual. Ravus snapped the head to a side again, frown deepening a bit, and then he sighed, shook the head, and turned around.  
“You, crazy old man” was all that Ravus said as goodbye, and then started heading towards the door. 

Caleo did not feel offended. Indeed, he laughed. Lowly, and he was sure Ravus surely did not hear it, as he was making his way out. He heard the sound of the door opening and closing again, and he knew himself alone once more in his home.

He buried the spoon in his bowl and brought it up, still smiling.

“One day you’ll accept dinner, young man.”

_…all that you need is just a little flame. Because even just a little flame can help someone find the correct path in the dark. It’s not as powerful as the sun, or as a torch, but it’s still a source of light. And no matter how little, any little light is more than enough to make someone find the correct path again._

_Even if it’s only a little flame._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ravus' arc is only trying to explain a key future appearance, but I guess there's no troubles skipping it. From now on and until the plot twist, there will only be one or at max 2 Ravus centered chapters, the rest is only Gladio and Ignis, I promise. ^^
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> Thank you for reading.


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